117 Meeting Our Comrades

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_Fleur's Perspective-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ 

"Ouch! Who hit me?" I screamed and felt a sudden touch of a hard surface on my shoulders.

I am unable to ascertain who is the perverted perpetrator who had a stroke my body using the cover of this pitch-black room.

Venice is one of the suspects that I'd include in these sort of scenarios, given her extraordinary 'aroused' mentality over my physique. 

 Travelling with us is Grey Turner, who seems to be more suspicious because of his gender as a man. He might've done something and used this chance to satisfy his biological needs.

However, by the time that I asked them about the sudden sensation that I've felt, none of them admitted the action and scolded me for blaming them for it.

"Then who did it?" I said while flapping my arms around me, trying to discern their figures.