Lumian?

Olive dilated his eyes at him, annoyed.

"You—"

"It doesn't matter if it's your house or not. You shouldn't make your guest uncomfortable!" Valentine scoffed.

"Guest?" Olive looked at him in amusement, miffed. "You aren't a guest if you came to my fucking house unannounced. Not even Loui comes to my house like this!"

Valentine glanced at him and stood up to his feet. "I guess I'm special then." He began to unbutton his shirt.

"You wish." Olive threw his head back, shutting his eyes in weariness.

Valentine laughed, opening the last button on his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Olive asked, his head still thrown back on the sofa.

"'Too hot." Valentine's voice was low and barely audible.

"Huh?" Olive finally lifted her head and glanced at him. He was all red as if he had a very bad fever. "What's wrong with you?" He was sincerely apprehensive.

Valentine shook his head at him. "I'm not sure. But I think it's my heat."