"...Falling for such an obvious trap. How childish," Sylas murmured, his tone dripping with mockery.
"Wha—! Grr... You're so annoying!"
Sylas's taunt was the pinnacle of provocation, and Rocco's face turned beet red as he sputtered in indignation.
While pouting, he began to furiously hit Sylas's chest with his tiny, frustrated fists.
Sylas, however, remained completely unbothered, ignoring the flurry of blows as though they were nothing.
Keeping his fuming little brother securely in his arms, Sylas sat himself cross-legged on the bed, unhurried and composed.
Perched on Sylas's lap, Rocco sat, his cheeks puffed out in a clear display of displeasure, much like an irritated chipmunk.
His expression spoke volumes—he wasn't about to let that earlier jab slide without protest.
"...If you keep puffing out your cheeks like that, your facial muscles will cramp. Stop it."