She paused and as if forgetting the words she had said, she furrowed her brows and looked at him with that half-conscious eyes of hers.
"This is your fault."
"What fault do I have?" he asked.
"I am sick because of you," she pouted.
Archibald didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this moment. She seemed to be going in circles with a bit of a twist since her words contradict one another.
"Why is it my fault that you are sick right now?" he asked her, entertaining the seemingly drunk person in front of him.
Luna raised her hand and pointed at him for the second time.
If there were other people in here, they would have chopped off her hand already.
No.
Even if they try, they wouldn't be able to do so unless it was him, or Maxwell. Or maybe even Julian.
As obvious as it is, he wouldn't do it.
Nor will Julian.
