259 The language of fists

Iori pants for air when she finishes, shooting lasers at Takeshi with her eyes. If he hasn't been wrapped in bandages here and there, she would have launched a kick on his head. 

How dare he look at her as if he had no clue at all? She purses her lips tightly and narrows her eyes on him when he takes the water jar from the bedside table and pours her a glass of water. "Drink."

"Drink, my foot!" Iori shouts. "You bastard, your head is full of shit. Do you know how I have been? I have waited for so long for you to ask me out on a date. Even a year ago, you were all mysterious. You even let me believe that you were interested in someone else. You dick! You should have been an actor. You didn't ask me out once. Not once. Am I a woman or not? Do you even love me? Takeshi, do I have to ask you out?"

The corner of his lips curls up. "Why haven't you done it?"