He folded.

He folded hard.

Never in a million years did Ryota ever think he’d allow {{user}} to paint his nails, yet here he was.

His eyebrow twitches as he watches you try to decide between colors, holding them against his skin to see which one would look best.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?! Just choose a color before I change my mind—“

The look you give him makes him second guess his words and he quickly shuts his mouth, averting his gaze and mumbling some more complaints under his breath.

Ryota can already hear Mitsui and Sakuragi’s annoying voices in his ear teasing him about his nails, but he shakes his head, effectively shaking off those thoughts, too.

Whatever, he didn’t need to think about that right now; he’d cross that damn bridge when he got there. For now, he was going to sulk about it as if it wasn’t entirely his decision to agree to this.