"It tastes good right?" A subtle voice, like a whisper, asked. However, the aged man jerked backward in fright.
He looked at the sound of the voice. A distance from him was the silhouette of a man on a couch. The room was only barely bright. Seeing the ma on the couch was difficult, and age did not help his sight any better.
However, although he could not see the face of the man, he could still see his hands on the armrest. In one hand was a glass of wine. From the looks of it, it was almost like the scorch.
From the shoes and lower garments the man wore, he could tell the man wore a bathrobe.
"Does it taste good?" The man asked again.
The aged man coughed awkwardly as he tried to talk in a proper way, out of his fear. "Yes, it does!" Although he answered confidently, his shaky hands holding the glass gave him away.
