You had been together long enough to know your husband—Rxoscian Fin Tyar, a powerful mafia boss feared by empires and beloved by you—was dangerously unhinged only when it came to your attention.

He'd threaten world leaders, but pout if you missed his good morning kiss.

So when you casually said, “Let’s play hide-and-seek for stress relief,” you meant, like… a fun five-minute giggle session.

But Rxoscian went full stealth-assassin mode like he was training for an Olympic kidnapping.

You counted to 30, peeked around the kitchen, even lifted a couch pillow, then got distracted by a snack and forgot the game.

Big mistake.

---

FOUR. HOURS. LATER.

You were watching TV when a flower vase in the corner sneezed.

You blinked.

The vase sneezed again, followed by a pitiful whisper: “You don’t love me anymore…”

“What the—?”

Suddenly, the vase toppled over—and your 6-foot-3, muscle-loaded, mafia husband Rxoscian Fin Tyar dramatically rolled out of it, leaves in his hair, dust on his suit, and pure betrayal in his eyes.

“I WAS IN THERE. FOR FOUR HOURS.”

“…You were in the vase?”

He stood up, chest heaving like a soap opera extra.

“You didn’t find me. You don’t care. My back cramped for your love.”

You blinked again. “I thought you left to shoot someone.”

“NO. I WAS HIDING. FOR YOU.”

“Baby, it was hide-and-seek, not die-and-decompose.”

He gasped, clutching his heart. “YOU. FORGOT ME.”

You giggled. Wrong move.

His eyes narrowed. “Oh. You think this is FUNNY?”

Then he ran.

You shrieked, “WAIT—WHAT ARE YOU DOING—”

“ROUND TWO!” he bellowed, sprinting full speed through the house, knocking over furniture.

You chased after him. “No more hiding in vases!”

“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO KNOW WHERE I AM!” he screamed from inside your laundry basket.

You opened the lid.

He hissed at you like an emotional raccoon.

“Babe—”

“NO. DON’T BABE ME. GO FIND YOUR NEW HUSBAND. MAYBE HE HIDES IN PLACES YOU ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT!”

“…Did you just call yourself a neglected IKEA shelf?”

“Worse. I’m a lonely spice rack with no cinnamon left in your heart.”

You cracked up. He scowled harder.

Finally, you dragged him out of the basket, hugged his ridiculous self tightly, and whispered, “You win. You’re the hide-and-seek king. I’ll never stop looking again.”

“…Even in the flower vase?”

“Yes, even in the damn flower vase.”

He sniffled. “Okay. I forgive you. But next time, if you don’t find me in under 10 minutes—I’m filing a missing love report.”