"You want to buy my flowers?"
The little boy showed no fear and only defiance as he proceeded to give Albion a top-to-bottom glance before asking, "What does a monk need roses for? Not like you have anyone for Valentine's Day."
The little boy's words stabbed into multiple sore spots, causing Albion to suffer critical damage and immediately want to puke blood on the spot.
"What did you just call me? A monk?!" Albion questioned the damn bra—the little boy.
There was not much he can do about being single. In fact, there's nothing wrong with being single! But why was he called a monk?!
"Are you not?"
The boy narrowed his eyes, trying to look up at Albion's shiny head with the glaring sun in the background before he noticed the person was actually not bald.
"Ah, sorry. Your head was so shiny, I thought you were a bald monk," The little boy apologized.
