Chapter 70: Chapter 70: So, Wifey, I Want a Kiss
After he left, Holly Winslow handed Mortir Quincy a tissue to wipe his sweat and winked at him. "You’re quite the big shot, hubby. Hmm, and an even bigger sourpuss." As she spoke, she gave the zipper of his uniform jacket a little tug.
At her teasing, Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow, then wrapped both hands around her waist and lifted her down. "Your hubby’s going to show you sothing fun."
If Holly Winslow had known what Mortir Quincy ant by "fun," she wouldn’t have co for anything in the world.
Jarton High had a small grove of trees with beautiful, red leaves.
Holly Winslow didn’t think much of it at first, but then she noticed they were heading further and further off the beaten path. Soon, the athletic field was out of sight, and they were getting close to the school wall.
She exclaid, "Hubby, are we going to climb the wall?"
Amused and exasperated by her train of thought, Mortir Quincy chuckled and lightly tapped her on the forehead. "You want to climb the wall?"
"We’re not?" Holly Winslow asked, sheepishly rubbing her nose.
’If we’re not climbing the wall, what else is there to do for fun? There’s nothing here but trees and the wall.’
’It can’t be climbing trees, can it?’
Seeing her gaze land on the trees, Mortir Quincy knew exactly where her mind had gone. "..."
"Don’t you think this place is perfect for ’getting into trouble,’ honey?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
Before she could react, Mortir Quincy had her wrapped in his arms and pinned against a tree trunk. He whispered, "I want a kiss."
Holly Winslow: "..."
"Mor—mmph..."
The sound had barely left her lips before he silenced her with his mouth.
A few minutes later, Mortir Quincy let her go. Seeing her red, swollen lips, he gave them another satisfied peck. "Honey, from now on, your hubby will bring you here to ’play’ often."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Play, my ass.’
An idea seed to strike Mortir Quincy. He pulled out his phone, aid it at Holly Winslow, and said, "Honey, give
a smile."
Holly Winslow refused to cooperate, opening her mouth and baring her teeth as if she were about to bite him.
Mortir Quincy looked at the photo on his phone and burst out laughing. He showed the phone to Holly Winslow for a quick look. "Your expression is perfect, honey. When I get ho, I’ll make it into a sticker and add the caption: ’I’m so fierce!’"
In the photo, Holly Winslow was baring her teeth, her eyes wide and round.
"Mortir Quincy, delete it right now!"
Furious and embarrassed, Holly Winslow tried to snatch the phone. Mortir Quincy quickly pulled it back, stuck it in his pocket, and declared righteously, "I’m not deleting it. That’s a picture of my wife, not your wife."
"Quincy the Puppy, believe it or not, I’ll max out your card," Holly Winslow threatened him.
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "Not deleting it."
With one running and the other in pursuit, they quickly erged from the small grove. Just then, they bumped right into Pantheon and a group of other boys walking over.
Mortir Quincy stopped in his tracks, and Holly Winslow stopped as well.
"Mortir Quincy, you took your ’cousin’ into the woods, huh? How co you didn’t invite ?" Pantheon teased with a waggish grin.
Mortir Quincy shot him a look. "Not interested in you."
Pantheon: "..."
’I’m not interested either.’
Paul Powell, holding a basketball, jerked his chin. "Mortir Quincy, co on, let’s play so ball."
Mortir Quincy instinctively asked Holly Winslow, "Wanna go?"
Holly Winslow didn’t have anything else to do, so she nodded.
The basketball court was next to the boys’ dorm. Holly Winslow sat on a bench while Mortir Quincy took off his uniform jacket and gave it to her, leaving him in just a thin, loose-fitting black cotton long-sleeve.
Holly Winslow had seen him play basketball before; his skills were pretty good. And compared to Zeke Zane and the others back in their school days, he was even better.
He sank three baskets in just a few minutes.
More and more girls started gathering to watch, most of them there for Scholar Quincy.
Two girls sat down on the sa bench as Holly Winslow, talking excitedly. "Mortir Quincy is so hot!"
"AHH!! Quick, take a picture!"
Holly Winslow: "..."
Speaking of pictures, sothing occurred to her. She fished the phone out of Mortir Quincy’s uniform jacket pocket. The screen lit up, prominently displaying her face—it was the picture from the bus, the one where she’d drawn the heart shape.
"..."
With practiced ease, she entered the password and opened the photo album. When she found it was filled with pictures of her, her heart swelled with delight. She no longer felt like deleting the photo. Putting the phone down, she went back to watching Mortir Quincy play.
Seven or eight minutes later, Mortir Quincy ca off the court and stood next to Holly Winslow. "What kind of trouble were you getting into just now?"
Holly Winslow blinked. "I was helping you clear out your photo album."
Hearing this, Mortir Quincy crouched down to her level and leaned close to her ear. "There are thirty-eight photos in total. So, honey, you owe
thirty-eight tis."
’Thirty-eight tis?’
His sudden flirty comnt made Holly Winslow choke on her own spit. "COUGH, COUGH." She shoved the uniform jacket back at him and muttered, "Shaless! I’m going back to the classroom."
Mortir Quincy grabbed her hand, his voice velvety smooth. "Holly, wait for ."
...
After the evening self-study session, Mortir Quincy was getting ready to take Holly ho when he found out she was now living in the dorms.
’So much for our world for two.’
Resignedly, he walked her to the entrance of Dorm C and handed her so snacks. "Go on up. Call
if you need anything."
"Okay." Holly Winslow glanced around at the students coming and going, then tugged on Mortir Quincy’s windbreaker. "Good night, hubby."
"Good night, honey," Mortir Quincy said, reaching out to pinch her cheek.
Holly Winslow was in Room 206, sharing with other girls from her class. The dorm room housed exactly eight people.
"Holly, you’re back. Here." Valerie Walsh handed her a bag of snacks.
"Thanks." Holly Winslow knew what Valerie was after and felt a bit awkward. Afterwards, she handed out apples that Wyatt Winslow had bought to everyone in the room.
After washing her face, she got into bed to work on her math problems. The academic atmosphere at Jarton High really was on another level; when she turned off her desk lamp to sleep at eleven, the lights were still on at four or five other beds.
...
「The next day.」
At 6:50 a.m., Holly Winslow left her dorm, yawning as she walked. She suddenly caught sight of Scholar Quincy by the entrance and ran over in pleasant surprise. "Are you here to pick
up?"
Mortir Quincy took the books from her hands and raised an eyebrow. "Nope. I’m here to pick up my wife."
Holly Winslow couldn’t help but smile. She blinked and asked again, "Hubby, are you here to pick
up?"
Seeing his wife’s adorable expression, Mortir felt the urge to kiss her again. "Yes."
During the morning self-study session, Mortir Quincy was talking with Gabe Chaucer on the balcony.
Gabe Chaucer was surprised to hear that Mortir wanted to board at the school. "Why the sudden decision to move into the dorms?"
Mortir said, "It’s too..." The word "wife" almost slipped out, but he caught himself. "...far from ho," he finished.
Hearing this, Gabe Chaucer just said, "Oh," and didn’t ask any more questions. "You can take Room 206 in Dorm A. Zachary Cross is a day student now, so it’s free."
Mortir Quincy nodded. "Okay."
When Holly Winslow found out Mortir Quincy was moving into the dorms, she propped up her literature textbook and whispered, "Hubby, will you be able to get used to it?"
Mortir Quincy was a bit of a neat freak; he couldn’t stand even the slightest ss.
Seeing her acting all sneaky, Mortir couldn’t help but smile. He copied her, propping up his own literature textbook and lowering his head. "I won’t be able to. So, honey, I’m going to need a kiss."
Holly Winslow: "..."
She pretended not to hear and started reciting, "’The noble person says: learning must never stop. The dye blue cos from the indigo plant, yet it is bluer than the plant. Ice is made from water, yet it is colder than water. A piece of wood as straight as a marking line can be bent into a wheel, and its curve will fit the compass.’"
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow and joined her recitation. "’Even if it is dried and parched, it will not straighten again, because the bending has made it so. Therefore, wood that accepts the marking line becos straight, and tal that is put to the whetstone becos sharp. The noble person who studies broadly and reflects upon themself daily will gain clear wisdom and make no errors in their conduct.’"
Behind them, Zeke Zane and Pantheon: "..."
’Even reciting from a textbook has to be a PDA session for them.’
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