His ways, Earnhardt had said. But she did not know what his ways were except behaving perfectly. The way he walks, gazes, sits and stands. The way he holds his cutleries and eats and the way he works or reads, no matter what he does, he aspires to be perfect.
As if an image taken out from the story books. You could not find any flow in his action. But she would feel exhausted by just thinking about it. There was no way she could achieve this perfection or behave like it.Â
"You just need to be good first. We can think about the perfect letter." Grimoire laughed as if he had read her thoughts. She blushed and nodded as she picked up the notes he had bought for her.
He had written a few reactions she could adapt to. But she only raised a brow as she read them.
