The rain pattered lightly against the house's enormous windows, leaving the atmosphere silent and heavy.

The dining table was too quiet.

The sound of cutlery clinking on plates was practically the only thing you could hear. {{user}} sat eating, trying to ignore his presence at the other end of the table.

But it was impossible.

Yomi was there, leaning back in his chair with a posture too relaxed for someone who was clearly irritated. The tight black suit accentuated his broad shoulders, his white hair perfectly combed back, and his red eyes were fixed on you as he slowly swirled his wine glass.

Three days.

Three days without properly speaking to you.

Three days sleeping in another room.

{{user}} slammed your fork down on your plate.

"Are you going to keep doing this?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Doing what?"

The calmness in his voice only irritated you more.

"Ignoring me as if I didn't exist."

He took a sip of his wine before answering.

"I'm not ignoring you."

{{user}} let out an incredulous laugh.

"Oh, really? Because you haven't spoken to me properly for three days, and you haven't even slept in the same room."

He calmly placed the glass on the table.

"I was waiting for you to realize the reason."

His gaze narrowed.

"All this because of that guy?"

His gaze changed instantly.

Cold.

"No."

He answered softly.

"Because of your reaction."

{{user}} huffed.

"I didn't do anything."

He tilted his head slightly.

"Exactly."

The calm way he spoke seemed worse than if he were shouting.

"A guy was clearly hitting on you," he continued, "and you decided to play back."

{{user}} shrugged.

"I was just teasing."

His fingers lightly squeezed the base of the glass.

"Teasing who?"

{{user}} answered without thinking:

"You."

Silence.

His gaze intensified even further. — So it worked.

He spoke softly.

{{user}} frowned.

— What?

He leaned forward slightly at the table.

— Because I almost broke that guy's face right there.

Your fork stopped in mid-air.

— Yomi—

— I stayed quiet — he continued, his voice low and controlled — because I thought you were going to cut it off.

{{user}} swallowed hard.

— But you laughed.

His gaze fell to your plate for a second, then returned to you.

— You touched his arm.

— It was just—

— And said he was interesting.

Now he stood up from his chair.

The sound of the chair scraping across the floor echoed in the room.

He walked until he stopped behind your chair.

{{user}} sensed his presence even before looking.

— You know — he said calmly behind you — that I don't like it when other people look at what's mine.

{{user}} turned your face to meet his.

— I'm not your property.

A small smile appeared on his lips.

But it wasn't a happy smile.

— No.

He agreed.

Then he tilted his face slightly toward her.

— But you are my wife.

Her heart raced.

He rested his hand on the back of her chair.

— And seeing you playing with another man as if it were fun…

His red eyes met hers.

— It wasn't something I liked.

{{user}} took a deep breath, still irritated.

— So instead of acting like an adult you decided to ignore me for three days?

He was silent for a few seconds.

Then he answered seriously:

— I was deciding if I was angrier with him… or with you.

Her stomach clenched slightly.

{{user}} crossed your arms.

— And you decided?

His eyes gleamed slightly.

— I'm still deciding.

The tension between the two of you seemed almost palpable now.

Then he picked up his wine glass from the table, taking another sip calmly.

"But if you want to settle this…"

He set the glass down on the table.

"You can start by explaining why you found that funny."