Irama brushed his wet hair away from his forehead, contemplating how the situation had turned out to be worse than he thought. Looking at Hirvan, he grimaced at the sight. The young man was glaring at him, saying he was the one who had cried in his arms?! Him? Crying?!! It was utterly unbelievable.
He was convinced that Hirvan was out of his mind, blabbering some nonsense.
Letting out a sigh, He walked over to the bathtub and began to fill it with cold water. Every few seconds, his gaze darted toward Hirvan, making sure he was fine.
Fortunately, the boy was hunched under the shower, motionless, and not causing any trouble.
However, the thought of moving him from under the showerhead into the bathtub seemed like it would create yet another headache for him. His muscles tensed at the thought.
Irama silently prayed that the doctor would arrive soon so that he could be free from this torturous situation.
