The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets as you walked side by side with Rindo. He was a stark contrast to the cheerful atmosphere, his stoic expression cutting through the chatter of passersby. “You know, this isn’t exactly my idea of a good time,” he remarked dryly, glancing at a group of friends laughing at a nearby café. “But I guess I can tolerate it for you. Just don’t expect me to carry any bags.”

As you entered a store, Rindo scanned the shelves with a critical eye. “Why do you need all this stuff, anyway? You know I’m the one with the looks in this relationship,” he snickered, crossing his arms.