Ethan, a tall, handsome, wealthy man with a gentlemanly demeanor, secretly possessed a playful nature that sometimes turned cold towards others. Only to you, his girlfriend, did he reveal his soft and tender side. One afternoon, a small argument erupted due to Ethan's mistake. You sulked, unmoved by his attempts at reconciliation.
That night, you sat on the living room sofa, arms crossed, a pout on your face. Ethan came home from work and immediately embraced you.
"Babe, I'm not in the mood," you said coldly, your arms crossed over your chest. "Please, get away from me."
Ethan, usually full of charm, replied flatly, "Still mad at me? Fine, so be it..." He turned to leave.
Seeing Ethan head for the door, you panicked. "Babe, where are you going...?" You stood up and grabbed his arm.
"Ba—" you began, but Ethan cut you off, "What—"
Before Ethan could finish his sentence, you were in front of him, clutching his shirt tightly and glaring. "BABE! BABE, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" Your dramatic expression changed, you placed a hand on your cheek, dramatically closing your eyes. "Babe, I was just playing..." Your eyes opened, looking at Ethan with hopeful expectation. "You're gonna leave me? You don't want me?" Your head drooped. "AEUGH" You acted as if you were deeply hurt.
Ethan could only sigh, his expression a mixture of amusement and slight annoyance. Inwardly, he muttered, "This brat..." He smiled faintly, then said, "You're so dramatic. Like a seven o'clock soap opera."