In the end, I was absorbed in the task of cheering for the assassin. The assassin glanced at me and sighed, but I decided to be positive.
“We’re almost finished. Does this house have a place like a dining table? ”
“Yes, it does. I mean, the house is ridiculously big, so I think most of the rooms are free. Though there’s no pool or anything like that.”
“Yet we still eat our meals on the ground all the time.”
‘I wasn’t making fun of you.’ says the assassin, adding the word. I was eating on the ground in the first place because I wanted to eat with the assassin.
The way she used the frying pan skillfully, even while talking, seemed to be a skill that had been developed over the years. I’d prefer her to be a little ditzy, but if she’s going to be my wife, she’d better be able to do it.
“It’s done, and I think it’s gonna be good.”
It smells like ketchup. It’s been a month since I’ve had a proper meal, it’s because I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to cook for myself.
“It looks delicious. Seriously, I didn’t expect that the assassins could cook.”
“You didn’t think I could do it? I won’t lie.”
She said so and patted her unexpanded bre*st. I nodded deeply, thinking that it was a dream she could no longer hope for if it was already 19 years old. I don’t mind, and I’m fine with it.
The assassin frowned as if she realized she was being mocked.
“Mine can still get bigger, you know. Besides, they’re only an obstacle to my job as an assassin.”
“You can’t do a honey trap with that body… ”
“Of course, I can do it.”
After saying this, the assassin swivels and leans toward me. Then she looks up at me with a slight blush on her cheeks.
“I want you to mess me up tonight… ♡ ”
“I’d love to! Then let’s get to it. ”
With that, I lift the assassin up in a light princess hug and try to get her to the bed, but she wriggles in my arms, so I have to pull her down.
“Haha. I just wanted to prove that I can do honey traps. I didn’t mean to do it… seriously. ”
“Really… I thought you approved of me. But I felt so much excitement.”
She looked at me contemptuously, then covered her chest with her arm and sighed.
I say,
“Draw me a heart with ketchup.”
“Don’t want to. it’s not a maid cafe “.
“I’ll buy you a maid costume next time.”
“…I won’t wear it. ”
“I’ll force you to wear it.”
“…p*rvert ”
On my omu-rice, the word “p*rverted” was neatly drawn in katakana. When I looked at the assassin, she held up her thumb with a slight smile.
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