I reach the bathroom door, fingers already curling around the handle.
But his voice chases me before I can close it.
"Little kitten…"
I look at him.
He picks up a bag from the couch, walks toward me, and offers it with that calm, unshaken smile of his. His eyes stay on me—steady, certain—like he already knows I won't refuse.
"Wear this," he says.
I stare at him without blinking.
Seriously?
He bought an outfit for me?
Does he see me as a girl?
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe before the anger wins.
"Why would I wear this?" I ask through my teeth.
His smile doesn't fade. "Because we're going on a date. So we should wear something matching."
He glances at the bag. "It's exactly matching with mine."
I look at him from head to toe.
White and sky—
a formal sky-blue shirt tucked neatly into white trousers.
He looks ridiculously prepared… like some teenager going on his first date.
