"Where's the toilet?" Claire asked Devan. Her brows furrowed in confusion as Devan led her into the elevator.
"On the third floor, honey," Devan replied casually. The man leaned against the elevator wall with a gaze that never left Claire who was standing in front of him.
"Huh? Third floor?" Claire's response was astonishment. How come, a house as big as only has a toilet on the third floor.
"Why honey? Is it too far? Okay, I'll carry you," said Devan then approached Claire, immediately lifted her body, and carried her with bridal style.
"Devan, what are you doing?" asked Claire in surprise.
"Carrying my angel," Devan replied with a smile on his lips.
"Put me down, what if someone sees us like this?"
"So what? We'll be married soon, honey. I'm free to do anything with you," Devan said and it managed to make Claire's cheeks blush like a boiled crab.