"It's… it's not what you think, Ren," Misa said softly, though her voice carried a stern undertone.
Ren's throat went dry. He swallowed, trying to steady himself, though his eyes kept wandering, betraying his racing thoughts. "Are you… okay? I'm worried about you, Misa," he asked, the concern genuine, though tinged with his own fluttering heartbeat.
Misa straightened her posture, clasping her hands neatly in front of her. "I'll take what happened in the dinner table as a mistake… and I'll forget about it," she said, her tone calm but firm. "But next time… don't do something like that." Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her voice sharpened. "I don't know where you learned these kinds of things, but you should stop. Understand?"
Ren blinked. He had expected scolding, but not this level of composure. He knew if this were any other woman, they would have reacted much differently—perhaps with boldness, teasing, or even pushing him down—but Misa held herself with a rare restraint.
