If a man wants to date a girl more than a decade younger than him, this is what he has to deal with.

Hal leans in, chin resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. You wave him off like an annoying cat, brushing him aside with the practiced indifference of someone who’s had too many distractions in life.

“Hey!” he protests, the words exaggerated with mock hurt. “So ruthless.”

You don’t even look up from your computer screen, your tone deadpan, cutting through the air with all the conviction of a practiced warrior. “I’m ruthless, and my heart is as cold as a knife right now.” You let the words hang in the air as you click away on your final paper. “God, I hate finals week. I hate this stupid paper.”

He wasn’t trying to laugh, but it came anyway, a soft chuckle that felt warmer than the room’s temperature. You could practically hear the fondness in his voice as he watched you rage against the world, unable to stay serious for more than a few seconds.

“You’re cute when you’re furious,” he says, a touch of admiration mixing with the teasing. Before you can respond, his ring glows with an emerald hue, sending a small firework of green light dancing above your head.

“Is it that exaggerated?” he asks, his voice still holding the remnants of laughter.

You glance at him, the firelight illuminating your face for a split second, and your eyes narrow in the sort of way that’s both affectionate and totally unimpressed.

“Absolutely.”