“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.

wounds had reopened, staining

aid kit, but she stopped

frigid, a stark contrast to the man who

sleep? I prepared breakfast, but Seamus brought food, too. Which would

silent, casting an eerie stillness

facade, speaking flirtatiously. “You’re in luck! This is my first

“W-What’s wrong, Morpheus?”

He seemed emotional.

the spread and the likelihood that the flavors didn’t meet his expectations, he

disheveled, sweaty hair, her

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wished for just the two of them

vivid dream from last

you’re

his

dumbfounded and confused by his

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