After a long time, he lay angrily on the floor, looking up at Little Ben: "What happened?"
Little Ben got up and dressed, giving him a cold glance: "Whenever we're together, I'm always on top. Why are you up there tonight? If you have this thought, then I have no interest anymore."
Mark squinted his eyes and couldn't help but smirk: "Do you mean...when you're with James, you're usually on top?"
Isn't the one on top supposed to be a man?
So James was also just a—woman, in that moment?
Little Ben frowned: "I'm not interested in explaining my affairs with him to you. I'm leaving."
Mark suddenly leaped up, grabbing Little Ben's arm: "...Are you doing this on purpose to spite me, or are you tired of me and just looking for an excuse?"
Though Little Ben's weariness never showed on his face, Mark could feel it.
He became increasingly disinterested, every time felt forced, and only after a lot of coaxing could things happen... Moreover, Little Ben never looked him in the face.
