Kafka's head turned to her, eyes still gleaming with a playful gleam that hadn't faded for even a second. His grin was almost devilish now as he leaned closer again, elbow resting lazily over the back of the seat.
"You know what?" He said, voice low, daring. "Why don't you try it?"
Olivia blinked. "Try what?"
He tapped his cheek, gesturing for her. "Try calling me a bad boy. Just like I said earlier. You know..." His smile widened. "...touch my face a little, give me that cold look again. Insult me, Mom. I wanna see how I look like when you say it."
Her breath caught. Her fingers began to fidget again, curling and uncurling in her lap, as her eyes darted away.
"K-Kafi…" She mumbled, clearly panicking. "I can't...I really can't do that."
Kafka's grin turned smug. "Can't, huh?"
