"I've told you, you don't need to worry," Nigel Clegg comforted Melody Foster. "My mom won't care about what kind of girl I bring back, as long as I like her, she'll have no objections."
He stroked Melody Foster's hair.
The more he really interacted with her, the more perfect he found her.
Even her hair was so soft and smooth, it was tender to the core.
"I really don't know what you see in me..." Melody Foster muttered to herself.
"Who can say for sure?" Nigel Clegg laughed. "You ask me, I don't even know. But I feel that my taste can't be that bad."
"What if you've made a mistake?" As soon as she said this, even Melody Foster felt her own words were asking for trouble.
Nigel Clegg sat up straight, looking at Melody Foster with a somewhat self-assured air: "With a brain as outstanding as mine, it's impossible to make any erroneous judgment. My genes simply don't contain the possibility of such errors."
Melody Foster...
