My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 182: 182, Yep, She Was Mad Hearing Us Having A Loud Sex! But I’m Going To Fix It Now

"Ren called earlier," she said, and not because it was relevant, but because she was the kind of person who said things when they occurred to her rather than managing the timing.

"How was he?" Mike said.

"Tired," she said. "It was late there... but still... he always picks up anyway."

"That’s considerate of him."

"It is," she said.

She looked at the floor for a moment. "We talked about coming home for winter break."

"Whether I should go back or he should come here." A pause. "He said come back..."

"He also wanted to see the apartment."

"Not you," Mike said.

"He said me first," she said. "Then the apartment."

She almost smiled. "In that order."

"That’s the right order," Mike said.

She looked up at him. "Do you think so?" freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

"The person and then the place," he said. "Yes... that’s the right order."

She held his look for a moment. There was something in her expression that was not quite the look she wore when she was processing something analytically.

It was slightly different from that. Softer at the edges, and not entirely comfortable with being softer.

She noticed the sweatshirt at roughly this point.

She glanced down at the tag resting outside the collar. Then she looked back up at him. fгeewebnovёl.com

"You knew," she said.

"For about three minutes," Mike said.

She pressed her lips together. "And you didn’t say anything..."

"You were already managing enough," he said.

She stared at him. She seemed to be deciding whether this was thoughtful or deeply annoying and was having difficulty choosing.

"Go inside," she said finally. "Fix the sweatshirt..."

"Go to sleep."

"Those were going to be my suggestions as well," Mike said.

She didn’t move from the doorframe. He didn’t move from where he was standing.

The hallway was quiet around them. Again.

"Why are you still here....?" she said, but she said it differently from the last time she had said it, without the edge, more like someone asking a question they actually wanted the answer to. "You’re waiting for something...?"

Mike looked at her for a moment.

"I’m deciding," he said.

"Deciding what."

"Whether I’ve said everything I came out here to say," he said.

She looked at him, and the warmth in her face had not gone down. "Have you...?"

"Not entirely," he said.

She waited. He had the patience that she had identified early and catalogued as one of the more difficult things about him, the patience that was not passive, that was instead the very deliberate absence of rushing, and she was standing in her doorway at three in the morning on the receiving end of it, and she was not, if she was being accurate with herself, trying particularly hard to end the conversation.

"Haruka," he said.

"Hm?" she said.

"Go to sleep," he said. "You have a long week ahead."

She looked at him for another moment. Something in her expression shifted, a small precise movement that she did not entirely control and that Mike noted with the attention he gave to things that would be relevant later.

"You are," she said, "a genuinely strange man."

"You have said this before," Mike said.

"I’ll probably say it again," she said.

"Probably," he said.

She straightened from the doorframe, slowly. She did not immediately close the door.

She stood in the opening with one hand on the edge of it, looking at him with the expression that she had when she was deciding something and had arrived at the decision but had not yet acted on it.

"Goodnight, Mike," she said.

"Goodnight," he said.

She closed the door, but Mike’s hand was already on the frame.

"You’re looking forward to something, huh," he said.

Haruka turned around.

The expression on her face was not the embarrassed version from thirty seconds ago. It was something considerably less patient than that.

"Move your hand," she said.

"I’ll explain why I’m here first."

"I know why you’re here," she said. "You came to make sure I was alright and then you stayed to enjoy yourself."

"Explanation complete, so please... move your hand away."

"Haruka."

"I haven’t slept," she said, and she said it with the particular flatness of someone who had been sitting on a specific complaint for a while and had finally found the right moment to put it down. "I was awake because of you!"

"You and Petricia and your extremely thin wall and your complete disregard for the fact that someone on the other side of it is trying to sleep."

Mike said nothing.

"Do you know what it’s like," she said, "to be on the phone with your boyfriend and then have to explain what you’re hearing through the wall? Again? After the last time?"

"And then after that to not be able to sleep because every time you close your eyes—" She stopped.

She pressed her mouth closed. She had clearly reached the end of the sentence and realized where it was going and decided not to take it there.

"Because every time you close your eyes," Mike said.

"Don’t," she said.

"I wasn’t going to say anything."

"You were absolutely going to say something." She pointed at his face. "That expression is the expression of someone who is absolutely going to say something."

Mike stepped inside.

She moved back automatically, which she immediately seemed to regret, because moving back was the opposite of the direction she had been intending to go.

"What are you doing...?" she said.

"You haven’t slept," he said. "You’re worked up."

"Standing in a doorway arguing isn’t going to fix that."

"And you coming into my apartment will."

"Probably not," he said. "But at least we can stop having this conversation in a hallway."

She looked at him standing in the middle of her apartment, jacket still on, entirely unbothered by the fact that it was past three in the morning and he had just walked into her space without being invited, and the most frustrating part of it was that she had moved back when he stepped forward, which was not the behavior of someone who actually wanted him to leave.

She was aware of this. She was fairly certain he was also aware of this.

"Sit down," he said.

"This is my apartment," she said. "I’ll decide when I sit down..."

"Then stand," he said. "But stop being angry for a minute."

"I’m not angry," she said.

Then she siad, "But... uhm... yes... I’m a little angry."

"I know," he said. "You’re also tired."

"Those are different problems."

She looked at him. The sharp edge of the anger was already doing what anger did when it ran out of fuel, which was become something quieter and more honest.

"I couldn’t sleep," she said again, but this time it came out differently, and it was less complaint, more just a fact. "It’s been a long week and I couldn’t sleep and then I really couldn’t sleep and now it’s three in the morning and I’m standing here sweating and my sweatshirt is inside out and you’re in my apartment."

"I know," Mike said.

"That’s all you have to say."

"What would you like me to say?"

She looked at the ceiling for a moment.

"I don’t know," she said. "Something that makes this less ridiculous."

"It’s not ridiculous," he said. "It’s three in the morning and you’re exhausted and you’ve been awake longer than you should have been for reasons that are at least partly my fault."

He looked at her. "That’s not ridiculous, but... that’s just a bad night."

She stood there for a moment. The tension in her shoulders had gone down slightly in the way that tension went down when someone said the accurate thing without trying to fix anything with it.

"Partly your fault," she said.

"I’ll take the partial," he said.

She almost laughed. Not quite, but close enough that the corner of her mouth moved.

"Go to sleep, Haruka," he said.

He said it the way he said things when he meant them simply and without anything else attached to them. "The week will be the same length whether you’re rested for it or not."

She looked at him for a moment.

"You should go back," she said, and it was not urgently, but just noting it.

"I know," he said.

He did not immediately move, and she did not immediately ask him to, and the room was quiet between them in the specific way that a room is quiet at three in the morning when two people are in it and both of them are aware of the fact.

Then he turned and walked to the door.

"Mike," she said.

He stopped.

She was quiet for a second, and then she said, "Close the door properly this time."

"I will," he said.

Mike walked back to her so that he could caresses her shoulder. "Maybe... after you’ve got something you deserve?"

"H-Huh...?"

"What are you... talking about...?"

"Oh, come on now... Don’t play fucking dumb with me!"