Rhys lowered his head and planted a kiss on Ilodyer's forehead.
"Such stubbornness."
His gentle lips gradually descended, feather-light, like feathers drifting down, and Ilodyer...
Ilodyer unexpectedly pushed Rhys away, "Don't do this... it reminds me of him."
Rhys wasn't angry; instead, he took Ilodyer's hand, and said: "Don't be upset. Come back with me."
Ilodyer pulled his hand back from him, "I don't want to."
"So stubborn and willful," Rhys chuckled, his eyes like two crescent moons.
"Rhys... why are you here?" Ilodyer asked, and then lowered his head.
"I really have something to do."
"I just finished some things and came by to see you."
Rhys walked over, and pulling Ilodyer to sit on the bed. He seemingly unconcerned about the charred body nearby.
"May I ask, why did you two have an argument?"
"Nothing," Ilodyer's voice sounded muffled.
"...Really."
