“I forget you weren’t thought any manners.”
Gives her glasses a quick wipe with a cloth.
His rudeness gave the secretary an idea...
“Seems like someone will be warming the bench next match.”
Fufufu~
“Smooth way of asking me to have lunch, such a gentleman Ohma.”
Gives her eyes a roll, accompanied with a slight head shake of disbelief.
“They don’t pay me enough to have a meal with you.. bargain my wage then we could talk.”
“It’s my job to monitor your condition. Don’t get too excited.”
The fighter’s smile.. always so cocky.. nuisance much?
“. . . “
Sigh.
“If you want to win another match, you best get yourself checked or else >>
Attenuated ocular lazily waltzed themselves over the attendant.
With her mild distraught regarded, he dismissively waves.
❝Do you always have to check up on me all the time?❞ donning a condescending smile right away, the only thing he could do at the moment is shrug.
“Hmm...”
Purses her shimmery, plump lips in deep thought.
“I think you’re cute.”
The secretary’s lie spat between her teeth, accompanied with a head nod.
For the second time, too.
Crying emoji— NANI??
“ ...”
Clears her throat and shrugs this softy side off; collects her composure.
“Glad you aren’t dead, now let’s get you checked.”
Says firmly, adjusting her glasses.