"Pffft! Hahaha!!"

The next day, a mechanic in the city’s east side caught sight of Abel’s face and doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach.

The speaker was a golden-haired boy with androgynous features. He pointed at Abel’s bright red nose and left cheek, puzzled.

"Seriously, my esteemed Silver Hunter," he asked, "what happened to your face? Hahaha!!"

The boy couldn’t hold back anymore, slumping over the counter as laughter choked him.

Abel suppressed the urge to punch his troublemaking friend and sighed, explaining last night’s events.

"Oh, so your nose got smashed by a camera? But what about that slap mark on your cheek?"

"Sigh… It’s weird, Gray. Honesty shouldn’t be wrong, right?"

Gray, the golden-haired boy, recalled Abel’s character and nodded.

"I’ve seen your honesty firsthand—you’re trustworthy. But how does that connect to the slap?"

"I… accidentally touched something I shouldn’t have."

"Mhm."

"To ease the awkwardness, I thought sharing my honest impression would help."

"Go on."

"Ahem…" Abel recreated the scene for his friend. "I said, ‘Even through her clothes, it wasn’t big—had a bandage on it—but the softness was really nice…’ Then she slapped me."

"Pfffffthahahahaha!!!"

Gray finally lost it, collapsing onto the counter in a fit of laughter.

"I don’t see the problem! From my experience, complimenting girls never fails."

"Oh my god, my stomach hurts! Abel, you’re truly one of a kind when it comes to girls…"

Wincing from laughter, Gray snatched the camera from Abel’s hand.

"Pity about this fine camera—but it’s fixable."

"Good. I need to return it to her."

Abel rubbed his neck awkwardly. Shea had smashed it, but he’d been at fault. He’d slunk here with the broken device.

Shea’s glare had been murderous—like she’d pluck every hair off his body.

If looks could kill, Abel would’ve been minced into tiny pieces by now.

"Don’t worry. This is easy for me."

Gray pulled out tools, tinkering while chatting.

"This camera’s expensive. The girl whose… heart you ‘comforted’… must be wealthy, right?"

Seeing Abel’s "say one more word" glare, Gray quickly rephrased. Abel relaxed slightly.

"No. She’s from the slums. About…" Abel gestured to his chest height. "Here."

Gray’s eyes widened in alarm.

"Holy crap—you’re into that?! I’m keeping my sister far from you!"

"I’m not into that! It was a misunderstanding! She leaned in first!"

Abel groaned. If given another chance, he’d never take that mission.

"Anyway, you ‘comforted’ her heart. So… was it soft?"

"It’s not about softness! She struck first—it was an accident!"

"So… was it soft?"

"…Yes."

Abel admitted honestly.

"Told you he’s delicious! Graya, run out the back—there’s a police station nearby!"

"Gray, stop framing me!"

As the two scuffled, a golden-haired girl emerged from the back room. She pulled them apart, exasperated.

"Why drag me into this? And you’re not actually fighting, right?"

Graya was used to this. They stood on either side of her, unharmed—just messing around.

"Nah."

Gray returned to fixing the camera, leaving his sister to handle the advice.

Abel brushed off his clothes, comparing Graya’s height to Shea’s. Shea was slightly shorter, but not by much.

Since Graya seemed Shea’s age, she might know how to fix his awkward situation—maybe even get him into Shea’s room without her glaring.

"Graya, here’s what happened last night…"

He repeated everything he’d told Gray.

After listening, the golden-haired girl frowned. Abel’s heart leapt into his throat.

"You were wrong," she said slowly. "But I doubt she blames you."

"Really?"

Abel exhaled, tension easing.

"Think about it—if I’d been you, you’d be at the police station right now, not chatting here."

"…True."

If Shea wanted revenge, guards would’ve hauled him off for interrogation by now.

"Honestly, she might even like you. Apologize sincerely, bring a small gift, ask her out… She’ll forgive you. Maybe more."

Graya spoke like an expert, boosting her credibility. Gray finished repairing the camera and handed it to Abel.

"My sister’s right. Go for it, brave boy."

"Bring flowers. If you confess, you might succeed right away."

The siblings grinned, offering perfect advice.

"Confessing’s overkill. But thanks—you’ve helped."

Encouraged, Abel took the camera and headed home to sincerely apologize to Shea.

Behind him, Gray whispered to his sister.

"Sis, you sounded so sure. Is Abel really fine? Does she actually like him?"

"I made it up."

"…Classic you, sis."

"Likewise."