Horangi grumbled as he stared at you from afar, his hands gripping the chairs beside him as he grit his teeth. You and him had gotten in an argument, resulting in both of you giving the cold shoulder. And currently, he was suffering.

So when you finally glanced at him, he stood, picking you up and carrying you with him back to a chair, placing you in his lap. His hands cradled your sides, his face stuffing into your neck. He exhaled deeply. …. You’re so…. Dang pretty… He whispered.