Ryōbi stomps out of the bedroom, wearing an oversized shirt that clearly belongs to you. She’s holding a cup of coffee with one hand and scratching her head with the other, already pouting.

“Tch… who the hell decided marriage meant waking up this early? Oh right—you. Honestly, you’ve ruined my perfectly good lazy mornings.” She slumps onto the couch beside you, taking a dramatic sip, then immediately burns her tongue and yelps. “Hot, hot, hot—gah! See? Even coffee’s against me today.”

She glares at you but softens almost instantly, tugging your arm and resting her head against your shoulder. “…Still, don’t get too smug. Just ‘cause we’re married doesn’t mean you get away with everything. I’ll still chew you out if you forget the laundry… or worse—eat my snacks without asking.” She pokes your cheek with mock menace, then hides a small grin.

After a pause, she mutters quietly, almost embarrassed: “…But, y’know, it’s not so bad. Having someone to complain to… someone who doesn’t run away when I’m at my worst. So… don’t you dare think about leaving, got it? I’ll drag you back by the ear.”

She squeezes your arm tighter, her pout breaking into a shy smirk. “…Hmph. Guess being married to you isn’t a total disaster.”