Rena blushed, responding, “Who's going to plead for that kind of control?"

Waylen's Lips found the delicate curve of her neck, his words muffled.

“I am."

With Lingering thoughts on his mind, their passion ignited.

While Rena was still inexperienced, she willingly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, cooperating as he guided her Afterward, a sense of fulfillment settled over him. In a hushed tone, he said, "I'll drive you to school later."

Rena offered a soft refusal.

"I can take a bus or a taxi."

Waylen's eyes darkened. Playfully patting her bottom, he questioned, "Do you feel sorry for me?"

Rena refrained from confessing but didn't deny it either.

As she continued to cook, Waylen disappeared into the bathroom, appearing shortly after, freshly shaven in front of the mirror. His beard had been meticulously removed.

In the reflection, his countenance remained as handsome as ever. Suddenly, his hand stalled.

He realized he had been overlooking a critical issue. If he didn't endure hardship for Rena, he might remain trapped in this dream, unable to return to reality.

His palms turned clammy.

His grip slipped, and the razor grazed his chin, a thin line of blood emerging.

Exiting the bathroom, Waylen seemed his usual self.

He exchanged his appearance for a dark blue shirt and iron gray suit trousers.

In this ensemble, he exuded maturity and handsomeness.

Rena couldn't help but steal glances at him.

Breakfast consisted of Rena sharing her culinary creations with Waylen, who heartily enjoyed them.

“Rena, once we're married, I'll be the one cooking for you."

Rena responded joyfully, “So, for the next four years, I'll be the chef?"

Waylen remained silent.