"What are your thoughts?"

"It's a little tight," I admitted, adjusting my navy-blue shirt.

It wrapped around my chest and shoulders and hung loosely on my torso. It was definitely flattering on me, but it wasn't something I'd normally wear. I opted for larger ones instead—since I didn't really care what I wore as long as it was comfy.

"Not my fault you're more muscular than my father..." Mara's pleasant look twisted into misery before ending in a bitter smile. I wanted to ask more questions, but I knew she wouldn't reveal much more than she had already. "But, I can't deny that it suits you."

I was unsure whether she was joking or serious when I asked: "It does...?"

A compliment is supposed to make the person receiving it feel good, but the sensation I got was far from that simple pleasure.

"Yeah!" She nodded, crossing her arms behind her back and displaying her new outfit. "But, Gray, I was asking for your opinion on my attire. Not the other way around..."

"Oh," I gasped. "The leather jacket and jeans should protect you from bites and scratches, but I doubt a white shirt will help. It stands out far too much."

And the shirt she wore was way too large for her slim figure, which wasn't really an actual problem to be concerned about.

"I was asking for a personal opinion, not an overcomplicated analysis..."

"I don't mind what you're wearing as long as it's comfortable for you."

"That's not one of the best lines you could've come up with, Gray..."

What exactly did I do? Her tone gave me the impression that I had said something wrong.

"My sincerest apologies?"

"Be silent." Mara pressed her finger against the bottom of her lip. "I'm just upset you never complimented me in return. That's all there is to it."

I kept my trap shut, swearing that I'd never fall for one of her traps again. I'll simply blame the way I was currently acting on the mild hemorrhage I suffered.

"You're at it again," she complained. "Being silent and all. Don't tell me you're cursing me in your mind. Stressing yourself excessively isn't a positive thing. You need to start taking better care of yourself."

I gave her the middle finger.

Screw you. You're the one that told me to be quiet. What am I supposed to do when any answer's incorrect? No matter how I looked at it, it was a losing battle. That's when a fine idea dawned on me. I just had to change the topic of our conversation from my habits to something else.

Ignoring her chuckle, I struggled over to the wardrobe, lying just beside the large television. Mara edged closer, her hands extended forward in anxiety, as if she intended to catch me if I fell. Yes, my movements were sluggish, and I was quite drowsy, but I was used to performing in such situations. I doubted I'd last much more than a few minutes, but I'm not going down so easily.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I opened the door and ran my hand over the various damp garments in the closet, looking for anything suitable.

"We were talking about clothing before," I remarked, eventually giving up on picking something specific and letting things unfold. "What are your thoughts on this...?"

There was nothing to gain, yet my obstinate behavior was the product of my deep resentment at being defeated—even if it meant endangering myself. But I'll never admit it out loud.

"Too vibrant and outstanding," Mara said flatly. It's somewhat frightening because she never reacted like that when she faced a monster. "I'm not fond of it..."

Aren't you the one wearing a white shirt?

"Fine. What about this one?" I pulled out another blouse, dropping the previous one on the floor. "I just know it'll fit you perfectly."

"Of course not..." she whispered, crossing her arms into an X. "That's mom's. There's no way you'd ever catch me wearing that."

I sighed, uncertain of what to do as I leaned my feverish forehead on the wardrobe.

"Come on, stop throwing a tantrum and sit down already," Mara told me, seizing me by the armpit like an experienced officer. Not fighting against her, I fall on the enveloping sofa. "Stay there and get a wink, zombie."

"What are you up to?" My eyes were already closing as she placed the scabbard around her hip.

I lied about lasting a few more minutes. I only had a few seconds remaining.

After lifting her hair with both hands above and revealing the nape of her neck, she took the band she kept in her teeth, knotting everything into a neat ponytail.

Realizing I was still conscious, she threw me a silly grin. "Remained speechless, eh?"

"Answer the question."

"Please just pass out already." Mara grimaced, shooing me away with her hand. "I'm going to look in other apartments for loot."

"Let's go then," I muttered.

Putting a palm on the soft sofa, my hand sunk into its surface as I upped my effort, trying to propel myself back to my feet. Mara, who was ready to leave the living room, took a long stride toward me when she realized what I was doing.

"Gray."

"I'll help you look for—"

She pressed her finger on my brow, preventing me from following and shoving me right into the warm area I was attempting to flee. "You can barely walk straight."

"It would be a lot more efficient if—"

"I don't even want to hear you trying to argue with me," she interrupted in a low growl. "Let's make it clear. In your current state, you're only going to drag me down."

Those words irritated me for various reasons. I crossed my arms to demonstrate how profoundly Mara had upset me. Maybe that'll make her cave. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"You're staying here, and that's that."

I clicked my tongue and turned away from her, albeit grudgingly. I used my arm—the one that wasn't injured—as a pillow to lean against. Quite comfortable if you were to ask me. That was simply how I was coping with my current predicament.

"Good," she replied to my insubordination, a happy smile on her face that I couldn't see. Her tone alone was enough to tell me she was having fun. "I'll reward you when I get back."

"I doubt there's chocolate in the fridge, Mara..."

And the fridge was obviously not working.

"Really~?" she asked as she passed through the open kitchen. "I wasn't referring to sweets, you know? I was talking about jewelry. We need cash, for your dream school life at Artemis and my personal aspirations. Now tell me, a ring with a big diamond on top, or some necklace made with smooth-white pearls. What would be more desirable?"

"Anything that brings profit."

That was the primary reason we struggled up until now. It would be absurd to depart without even looking for such objects if the occasion arose. It didn't matter what jewelry she found as long as we could sell it.

"What a typical response from you," she spat out. "Whatever. Wish me luck."

"Just get lost already."

She slammed the door shut, perhaps to let me know she was gone, leaving me alone in this fairly large apartment. In this solitude, and having exhausted my willpower, my partially closed eyelids dropped entirely.

Let's just hope she doesn't get herself into any serious trouble in my absence.