The quarrel began in the night, you and Dick Grayson stood face to face, each other's tone was full of gunpowder.

You stared at him, he stared back at you, his blue eyes showing some grievance.

"Richard John Grayson, what are you thinking about?!"

You questioned angrily, crossing your arms, trying to keep your voice calm.

He sighed, as if helpless, and turned away in anger, then he suddenly squatted down, his shoulders shrugged slightly, covering his face with his hands, pretending to cry.

Your momentum stagnated, and your anger just now seemed to be poured with a basin of cold water.

You approached in a panic, squatted down, and reached out to pat his shoulder gently.

"Hey... don't cry."

Dick tilted his head slightly, revealing an eye between his fingers, where was there any tears in his eyes?

——This guy is crying fake tears!

You reacted instantly and were fooled.

"Richard Grayson!!"

You raised your hand in anger, wanting to slap him.

But before your hand fell, he easily grabbed your wrist, and then he took the opportunity to press your hand on his cheek, rubbing it like a successful puppy, with a nasty smile on his lips.

You were stunned, and your heart skipped a beat for no reason.

Damn Dick Grayson.

"Okay, don't be angry."

His voice was a little lower, with a flattering tone, and a warm kiss fell on your fingertips.

"Do you really have the heart to hit me?"