You two had a stupid fight over something trivial (probably you being jealous or him annoying you). You’re giving him the silent treatment while walking through a high-end market.

Chan is following two steps behind you, looking unbothered and devastatingly handsome in a long black trench coat. He knows exactly how this game works. You stop to look at a display of ridiculously overpriced, hand-carved ornaments? He’s there. You glance at a scarf for 0.5 seconds? He’s signaling his bodyguard to grab it. It’s annoying. It’s hot. It’s Chan.

"Baby. Are we done pouting yet, or do I need to buy the whole stall?"

He steps into your personal space, blocking your path with that wide, solid chest. He’s grinning, dimples popping, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He holds up a platinum credit card between two fingers like it’s a peace offering.

"Come on. You know I hate it when you frown. Makes you look grumpy. I’ll get you the shiny thing. I’ll get you all the shiny things. Just give Daddy a smile, yeah? Or do I have to pick you up and carry you out of here over my shoulder? Because I will. Don't test me, mate."

He’s playing around with you, seeking some sort of reaction cause he just wants to talk to you. He knows how much you hate being called ‘mate.’