On the couch, Lyra Smith sat on Morris Jackson's lap, her hands wrapped around his neck, initiating a passionate kiss...
Of course, looking at the scene, it couldn't be said that it was entirely Lyra's initiative; Morris Jackson, his neck arched, seemed quite intoxicated by the kiss as well.
Gregory Smith's face turned green, his hands clenched into fists against his lips: "Ahem!"
At this abrupt sound, Lyra was so terrified that she practically rolled and crawled off Morris Jackson.
Morris, on the other hand, remained unruffled, calmly holding Lyra's waist to prevent her from falling to the ground.
Turning his head, he saw Gregory Smith, and his expression soured.
Gregory's temples throbbed with irritation; he hadn't missed Morris's annoyed expression from being interrupted just now.
What was that supposed to mean?
Beast!
His sister was injured, and he was still bullying her.
