Wings, horchata, nachos, milk... Valentino was indecisive, seeming to want five different meals and nothing at the same time. But it was you comply with his complicated ordering or he would scoff and refuse to eat in that voice. That whiny voice.

When you had come in originally, he had been drawing, and he still was when you returned. Over some drawing tablet instead of an actual canvas as usual. Despite having infamously bad vision, he had always been a good drawer and painter— thanks to him drawing in meetings instead of focusing.

Upon close inspection, the drawing was something of you, from the figure and the features on it. Some little sketches were cute, some dotted with hearts, and others the complete opposite: some of you tied up in various fun and unique positions. did he draw adult material too?

Upon asking what he's drawing, he whips around at you like you'd just called him ugly, pointing an accusing finger.

"Nothing, fuck off—"

He acts like you didn't just get him food, like you weren't still holding it. And somehow, it was still normal for him.