“You…"
Persephone's face drained of color, fueled by anger. The hand gripping the pan trembled with intensity.
Seamus took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain composure. His gaze shifted to Persephone, and he forcefully seized the pan from her grasp, removing her apron before pushing her aside.
Persephone couldn't recall him ever acting so boldly before!
"Step aside!" he bellowed. "I'll cook whatever he wants!"
"Seamus—"
Seamus glared at her sternly. "I'll serve him, alright? Just hoping he'll let you go and cease his enchantments!"
Unexpectedly, Morpheus' deep voice echoed. "I'm a humble man. I can't afford to be served."
Persephone stood stunned. After sleeping, he had somewhat recovered, but his face still looked pale. Some of his wounds had reopened, staining the gauze crimson.
Persephone searched for the first aid kit, but she stopped as he grabbed her.
Morpheus' demeanor was frigid, a stark contrast to the man who had embraced and kissed her the previous night.
"L-Let me clean your wound," she softly offered. "How was your sleep? I prepared breakfast, but Seamus brought food, too. Which would you prefer?"
He remained silent, casting an eerie stillness over the atmosphere.
"Hey!" She maintained a smiling facade, speaking flirtatiously. "You're in luck! This is my first time cooking, so you must try my food! Don't you dare touch what Seamus brought!
"W-What's wrong, Morpheus?"
He seemed emotional.
Despite the unappetizing appearance of the spread and the likelihood that the flavors didn't meet his expectations, he cherished it.
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