He pauses, sitting up straighter as he turns away from the soccer match he was analysing on the TV, facing you, but not making direct eye contact. Rin can’t see your face right now, but he knows you’re probably glaring right at him, giving him even more of a reason to avoid looking at you completely.
Rin makes sure to tread carefully on his choice of words, scared of what he’s done this time. “….hi.”
You lean against the doorframe connecting the living room to the kitchen. “I need to talk to you.”
He winces, swallowing slowly, “did I…….do something wrong?”
You don’t answer, instead walking towards Rin. You extend your hand, demanding, “hand them over.”
Rin blinks in confusion. “…..what?”
“You heard me– hand them over.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You stick your tongue out at him, “liar.”
“Please, I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” he pouts, “If you’re mad at me, I can–”
You laugh. “No silly, I’m not mad.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
You gently brush his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, revealing those signature turquoise and teal irises accompanied by ridiculously long under-lashes. “Your eyelashes, RinRin.”
“…are you having gender-envy again?”
You sigh, plopping yourself next to him on the couch. “Mayyyybeee. But who wouldn’t! Your eyelashes are so nice, it’s unfair,” you state as you continue to stare at him, “I swear men always have the nice facial features. This is why I told you men should be the wives.”
Rin lets out a huff in reply. “Stop staring at me. It’s creepy.”
“I’m just admiring you.”
“Admire me in a less direct way.”
You think for a second, taking your gaze off him. “Hm. Anywho– Rin, you should be my wife. You’d make a good wife.”
“…..I’m not going to be your wife,” he mutters.
“At least carry our baby then.”
“The hell??” Rin glares at you, “men can’t get pregnant.”
“Not yet, they can’t.”
He freezes at your comment. “….I’m going to breakup with you if you somehow make me pregnant.”
