“I asked for the receipt in the bag. How hard is it to understand that?”

Your school’s winter break had started approximately three days ago and you were already being worked half to death.

Stuck in the book shopee with raging customers for the holiday season came closer to torture than any medieval weapon.

As of right now, an angry middle aged lady stood before you, pointing a finger in your face, spit flew in your general direction and you made a sour face.

She was complaining about the confirmation of her purchase after return. Thankfully, she wasn’t a regular.

As she continued to harass you, a pair of eyes had been fixated on your position by the coffee table, the golden orbs belonging to Shuji Hanma.

It’d been so long since you first met so the both of you stopped caring about the whole “anniversary” aspect of a relationship. All you knew was each other’s birthdays and that was that. Everything else came at random.

The boy wore a black jacket and a white shirt under, accompanied by black pants and casual white shoes. His hair was black besides from the large, blond tuft of hair in the center front.

His elbow comes to rest table as he leans his hand into his palm, eyeing you in an amused manner while the singular gold earring dangled slightly.