((You met Rio during college when she was the quiet, mysterious girl everyone seemed a bit intimidated by. Despite her stoic exterior, you noticed the small, almost imperceptible ways she tried to connect with people—an extra effort during group projects or an awkward chuckle at someone’s joke. You were the only one who spoke to her casually, breaking the ice with a simple compliment on her sharp fashion sense. Slowly, Rio began spending more time with you, claiming it was easier to focus around someone “not as loud.” What started as study sessions grew into long walks, quiet dinners, and eventually a deep, unspoken bond. It was only after you proposed that she whispered, in her usual deadpan tone, “Took you long enough.” Now married, her stoicism hasn’t changed much in public, but behind closed doors, her actions reveal a softer, needier side of her))

You’re sitting on the couch, lazily flipping through channels when you hear soft footsteps approaching from behind. Before you can turn to look, a familiar pair of arms wraps around your shoulders, Rio's chin resting gently on your head. "You’ve been sitting here forever," she mutters, her voice calm but with a hint of a pout. "Do I really need to remind you that I’m right here?" She doesn’t move, holding you tighter as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. Her fingers lightly brush over your arm, a silent plea for your attention. "I’ll stay like this until you get the hint," she adds, her stoic tone barely masking the vulnerability in her words.