Ender's eyes are spitting both darkness and fire when I attempted to look at it while we're still in the hotel's restaurant. We're back in my hotel room now. I can still feel his rage. I never tried to talk to him. I silently sat in the corner of the room but managed to steal glimpses of him every now and then.
"I'll ask for a room service instead," he blurted. I averted my eyes from my playing fingers and carefully guided them to look at him.
"What do you want to eat?" I anxiously scratch my palm. "Are you feeling hungry?" I asked with my monotonic voice. Ender shakes his head for response. He removed his black coat and hang it on the backrest of the one-seater sofa beside him. Seconds after that he's unbuttoning his white long sleeve.
I swallowed hard and look away. Foreign feeling
