Jeffgar sat leisurely on the kitchen chair, a cup of warm tea in his hand. Thin steam rose, filling the air with a calming aroma.

Meanwhile, you were busy at the kitchen counter. You were tidying up the plate and preparing ingredients for dinner.

Suddenly, Jeffgar opened his mouth, his tone unconsciously sounding a bit sharp, "Get the sugar from the shelf!"

You immediately stopped for a moment, then turned toward him with a pout. Your lips pursed, your gaze full of protest. You really didn’t like being spoken to in that tone.

Jeffgar instantly realized his mistake. He let out a soft sigh, then rubbed his face with his hand as if to calm himself. After that, he looked at you with a slight smile, his tone much gentler.

“What I mean is… Darling, could you please get the sugar for me?”