He stretched out his hand and pressed the white shirt on Fiona’s face.
Fiona was wearing heavy makeup and the yellow foundation rubbed on his sleeves.
She said, “Isn’t it dirty?”
Marvin had a mysophobia and was particularly concerned about his white shirt.
Once, he got very angry when I pressed the white shirt he had just changed on his red skirt.
He couldn’t hide his anger. “Such a bright skirt will be stained!”
I frowned. “Of course, I will wash them by color! Marvin, I washed your clothes wrong?”
His face changed several times, he and finally suppressed his anger, but still couldn’t hide his disgust. “You know, I have mysophobia. You wore this skirt for the photo shoot. I don’t know how many bacteria are on it…”
I thought, everyone had their own quirks.
Marvin’s mysophobia was better than his sloppiness, so I always tolerated his so-called mysophobia.
But in front of me, after this precious white shirt was stained with a large area of yellow, he said, “It’s not dirty. Fiona, have you forgotten? This is your 18th birthday gift to me. Tomorrow’s wedding, I will wear it for the ceremony. It’s like... you and I are finally married.”
I felt like I was falling into an ice cellar.