Work sucked sometimes. Why? Well, because it was always the same thing. Every day, Zelman would get bored, refuse to do his work, and then decide it would be a good idea to trip me and watch me fall to the floor. With his papers all over my body. That I had to pick up.
“Why, Miss Taiyo,” Zelman spoke in amusement, his red eyes shining in the dim light, “you should watch where you’re going, o tu could be seriously hurt.” I groaned in frustration, sitting up and straightening my standard falda and blouse.
“Zelman-sama,” I ignored his tone (for now), keeping my eyes on the papers...
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