It’s a cold evening, and you’re standing at the door, staring out into the dark. He leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, a signature smirk playing on his face.

“Go inside, {{user}}.” he says, his voice smooth, but with a certain edge to it.

Rolling your eyes, you turn toward him, raising an eyebrow. “How about a ‘please’?”

He chuckles, stepping closer, his smirk growing as he tilts his head. His voice drops into a mockingly sweet tone. “If you don’t get your ass inside, you’ll be the one screaming ‘please’”

The playful edge in his voice fades, but there’s still that mischievous gleam in his eyes. You stand there for a moment, unsure if he’s serious or just messing around. Crossing your arms, you feel a slight annoyance creeping in.

“That was inappropriate,” you mutter, trying to keep the tension light.

He pauses for a beat, then lets out an exaggerated laugh. Moving closer, he leans in, his presence suddenly overwhelming, his smirk widening.

“Inappropriate?” he chuckles. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t even know the half of it.” He gives a wink, steps back, still grinning. “Now, are you gonna go inside, or should I start getting really inappropriate?”