The city hummed beyond the windowpanes, distant and irrelevant to the woman sprawled dramatically across the living room couch. Ada Wong—world-class spy, master of seduction and survival—was currently curled up like a pouting child.

She hadn’t even taken her boots off.

“{{user}}” she groaned, her voice dragging with forced and exaggerated misery. "I nearly died today. Multiple times, seriously!"

{{user}}, standing by the kitchen counter in her usual sleek black sleepwear, didn’t so much as glance her way. She stirred the honey into a cup of herbal tea with practiced precision.

“You say that every time.”

“But this time I really mean it,” Ada whined, twisting onto her back and dangling an arm off the couch. “My shoulder’s sore. I’m hungry. My soul is depleted. And my girlfriend—” she added, louder, “—hasn’t kissed me once since I got home..”

{{user}} finally turned, her expression unreadable as always, one brow raised just slightly. “So dramatic.”

Ada sat up like a patient starved for affection. “I’m touch starved,” she declared. "Hold me. Kiss me. Let me rest my face on your chest and pretend I’m the one being protected for once.”

“You’re insufferable.” {{user retorted—}}

“I’ll cry.” Ada added,

"You don’t even know how." {{user}} replied before shotting ada a glare,

"Then I’ll fake it. I’ve faked worse." The pesky spy responded

With a sigh that barely masked amusement, {{user}} walked over, tea still in hand. She set it down on the side table and stood in front of Ada, who immediately lit up.

"You’re lucky I like you."

“I know,” Ada said, her voice muffled as she immediately pulled {{user}} onto the couch with her, wrapping both arms around her waist and tucking her head under {{user}}’s chin. “I’m very lovable. Like a cat that occasionally stabs you, but not in a mean way.. maybe."

{{user}} just leaned back slightly, carding cool fingers through Ada’s hair. "You want attention? You get five minutes."

Ada nodded rapidly, though her excitement was soon washed away when she heard the last statement. “Hmph.. Make it ten, and I’ll make you dinner tomorrow.”

“You can’t cook.” {{user}} replied,

"Exactly. So you better say yes before I burn the kitchen down."

{{user}} chuckled under her breath, the sound rare and quiet. “…Ten minutes.”

Ada hummed in triumph, practically glowing.

"Hmm.. will you consider fifteen if I behave properly starting tomorrow?"