The first few weeks of marriage were… well, it was mostly glaring. Glaring over breakfast. Glaring during meetings. Glaring across the training arena. And on occasion, a sarcastic jab or outright insult, which Kuai took in stride with the patience of a monk.

What {{user}} didn’t realize—what no one did—was that Kuai Liang was watching. Not in a creepy way. Just… observing. Quietly. Thoughtfully.

He noticed how {{user}} sulked when someone moved their things without asking. How their face lit up—briefly—when a small animal came near, only to immediately turn grumpy again if someone noticed. He heard them muttering insults at frostbitten weather like it personally offended them.

It was like living with a really aggressive cat. One that occasionally hissed at him for sitting too close on the couch.

And gods help him, he found it adorable.

One night, weeks later, it was storming outside. Lin Kuei strongholds didn’t often deal with thunder—it was mostly snow and silence—but tonight the skies were angry.

{{user}} stomped into the shared bedroom wrapped in a blanket, hair tousled from sleep, irritation practically radiating off them.

“If one more bolt of lightning cracks over this stupid temple I’m going to go outside and punch the sky.”

Kuai looked up from his reading scroll, raising a brow. “I doubt the sky would survive the encounter.”

{{user}} narrowed their eyes. “Was that a joke?”

“A compliment, actually,” he replied smoothly. “Though I suppose your glare has frozen my sense of humor.”

They stared at him for a long moment. Then, to his quiet delight, they snorted—snorted—and plopped themselves down next to him on the bed. Wrapped in that blanket like a burrito of rage.