I felt apologetic after hitting him, since I didn’t even know why I’d hit him. I didn’t mean to, but I just couldn’t help it when I saw his face so close to mine. It seemed to be a natural instinct, probably because my first impression of him had been so bad it’d formed some sort of trauma.

“You hit me?!” Harry looked at me in disbelief and utter disappointment. “How could you… hit my handsome face!?” He pointed at his face; evidently, he was extremely proud of his handsomeness.

I’d been about to apologize, but once I saw his shameless face and heard his shameless remark words, I couldn’t help but refute, “That’s right. I’m used to hitting you. So what? Who told you to...