"I don't ever want to let you go."
...
"What the hell is this?! Why did you write this?" I ask, barging into Ayan's room without knocking first.
He's in the middle of changing his clothes; his shirt is past his shoulders, displaying a perfect set of abs, and his jeans are left unbuttoned. My eyes flicker to the waistband of his jeans momentarily, and I gulp before looking away.
It's bad manners to peek, Naira!
As soon as he hears me, he slips his shirt back on and covers his chest with his hands, shrieking loudly, "What the fuck, Naira?! You couldn't have knocked?"
"You care if someone sees you shirtless? Since when?!" I look at him weirdly. He's as shameless as a guy can be.
"That's out of question! You should have knocked before entering. It's basic manners to knock on the door first. Haven't you heard of privacy?" He crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed in a glare aimed at me.
