When I questioned him, John answered a couple times with a cough.
His tone was horribly cold yet it was filled with a sense of longing. I wondered why. I wanted to reply but I answered only with an awkward laugh instead.
Once again, you should never call me a beggar and expect me to hold back. Looking at a glimpse of John’s face, I saw that he was frowning violently, as if my answer had been harsh. I sat on the sofa opposite John.