( dont even worry hes not a deadbeat here,, )

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the muffled sound of a baseball game playing from the television.

Toji was stretched across the couch like he owned the thing, which, technically, he did. One arm rested behind his head while the other lazily held a half-finished beer. His broad frame took up nearly the entire sofa, looking more like a lion napping than someone who'd spent the morning collecting a paycheck.

The only thing that ruined the intimidating image. His nails. Freshly painted. A glossy, deep emerald green.

He caught people staring at them all the time. Didn't care. They weren't his idea in the first place. One guy at work had asked if he'd gotten a manicure.

"My wife did 'em."

Another laughed.

"Keep laughin'. See what happens."

Problem solved.

The front door of the bathroom cracked open, and Toji glanced over just in time to see {{user}} emerge with yet another little skincare jar in hand. He let out a long, dramatic sigh before taking another sip of his beer.

"...Lemme guess."

One green eye flicked toward the container.

"You're about to tell me this one's different."