“You’ve been biting me a lot,” his friend stated walking toward him, “Ever since the party. No. Don’t even say it’s nothing. Do you want to see how many times you bit me?!”
The older male took off his shirt and pants to reveal the marks along his shoulders, arms, even his thigh. Ping stared and stared some more, before he narrowed his eyes on a spot of skin that he wanted to mark.
“Stop.”
“…”
“Ah Ping,” Wen Dong dropped his shoulders and frowned sadly, “Do you hate me?”
Ping’s green eyes widened and he shook his head, confused as to why his friend would ask such a thing.
“Then why are you biting me?”
“Mine.”
“…”
“…”
“Uh… tell me more than that, baby Ping.”
“You are mine. No one else.”
Wen Dong blinked and blinked. Scratching the back of his head, he didn’t understand what Ping Ping was trying to say. Sometimes the boy seemed to lose his words and speak like a baby. Glancing at his healing bites from the boy, he looked over at the pinkette.