Fiona stormed into her room and slammed the door shut, the sound echoing with her frustration.
"How dare he ask if I'm jealous?" she muttered sharply, pacing the floor. "Jealous? Of what exactly? Of whom? Both of them are impossible… argh!"
She grabbed her phone from the bed and dropped onto it with a huff.
"Despicable man…"
A knock sliced through the silence.
"Open. It's not locked," Fiona called out, her tone still irritated.
The door opened anyway.
Manson stepped in.
Fiona shot upright immediately.
"Oh. What are you doing here?"
He closed the door behind him with calm precision.
"What do you mean, what am I doing here? You looked so upset you didn't even finish your meal."
"I'm not upset," she scoffed.
"Your face says otherwise," he replied lightly, a teasing glint in his eyes.
She let out a sharp laugh.
"Haha. Just stop being so full of yourself."
"I'm not," he said easily. "You know I'm every woman's man."
Fiona folded her arms.
