Can I Kiss You?

Wow. He looks really handsome when he smiles like that—not his usual evil or fake smile.

As my eyes unconsciously stared at his handsome visage, I felt his thumb brush against my lips.

'Hm? Why is he… Don't tell me he wants to—?'

"My dear wife, can I kiss you?" he asked.

My eyes widened at the ridiculousness of his question.

'Ah! I knew it! This pervert, kissing maniac, evil fox! We're alone, and this kind of kiss is p-private! Why is he suddenly asking that? Is he lusting right now? And why does he keep calling me "dear wife" even in private?'

"They say habits form when you consistently do something for 21 days," he added. "I guess that's true. We've been kissing daily for the past month and a few weeks for a publicity stunt—that's way beyond 21 days. No wonder I…"

"No wonder w-what?"

"I'm craving for your lips." 

'What the—What did he just say?!'

I felt my cheeks burn from what he said.