"Why did you stop talking?"
Maxwell Peary leaned back in his chair, looking far more relaxed than Nia Mitchell, who stood there, nervous and ill at ease.
Nia Mitchell frowned, her gaze fixed on the cell phone on the ground.
"Uncle, your phone..." she said, pointing at the floor. The phone Uncle Peary uses... it must be really, really expensive.
To just smash it like that, isn’t he being too wasteful?
The young woman had apparently forgotten that Maxwell Peary had always been extravagant. When they first t, he had even casually offered to gift her that jaw-droppingly expensive car. Although she never got the car, she ended up getting herself entangled with him.
"Mm, it’s broken," Maxwell Peary replied nonchalantly, continuing to observe the little bunny’s ever-changing expressions.
Nia Mitchell’s lips twitched. What does he an, ’it’s broken’? He’s the one who smashed it!
"Uncle, please don’t be angry. What that secretary said was indeed awful, but she didn’t know it was you." She tried to reason with him, hoping he would calm down.
"Nia Mitchell, I have a question for you." Maxwell Peary suddenly grew serious, his gaze fixed on her eyes.
Nia Mitchell pressed her lips together and nodded gravely. I’ll definitely answer his question seriously.
"Why do you call ’Uncle’?" This was a question Maxwell Peary had long wanted to ask. Does he seem that old?
Nia Mitchell blinked her large, expressive eyes, montarily unable to keep up with his abrupt change of topic. Why would he suddenly ask this? She racked her brain, but couldn’t figure it out.
"Because when I first saw you, Uncle, I thought you were very mature and composed. Besides, calling you ’Uncle’ feels very warm and familiar," she said, offering a sweet smile. Has he disliked it all this ti?
"If you don’t like it, then I’ll stop," she finished, biting her lower lip.
Maxwell Peary shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He’d assud it was because he was old.
He had never felt old before, but since eting Nia Mitchell, he’d had this feeling more than once. She’s so young, a full nine years his junior. She’s so active and spirited, truly like a bunny—sotis lively and adorable, making him feel as if he can never quite hold onto her.
"Mm, then what will you call ?" Maxwell Peary had initially wanted to say, It’s fine, call whatever you like. But on second thought, perhaps getting her to stop calling him ’Uncle’ would be a perk for him. The re image of her sweetly trailing behind him in the future, her voice soft as she called him ’hubby,’ was enough to send him into ecstasy.
Nia Mitchell pouted, a thoughtful expression on her face, standing there looking quite troubled. I can’t call him Uncle anymore... so what should I call him?
"Maxwell? No, that won’t work. Many people call you that. If I call you that too, it would be too common. I want to call you sothing special, sothing only I can call you," Nia Mitchell muttered, dismissing her own suggestion with a troubled frown.
Special? Sothing only she could call him? The words replayed in Maxwell Peary’s mind. He desperately wanted to roar into Bunny’s ear: Hubby! Call Hubby! That’s sothing only you can call ! But... Nia Mitchell couldn’t hear his innermost thoughts; he could yell all day, and it would be useless.
"Peary? Maxie? Maxwell? Max?" Nia Mitchell alternated between stifling giggles and frowning seriously. By the last one, she burst out laughing. Those nicknas all sound so odd. I still think ’Uncle’ is the best.
"Hurry up and pick one. If you don’t, I’ll just keep calling you Uncle!" Nia Mitchell said, looking as though she were bestowing a great rcy, and gave Maxwell Peary a smugly raised eyebrow.
I’d bet a bag of spicy strips that Maxwell Peary will choose to keep things as they are.
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