A/N:
I'm not mocking Japanese language and I'm sorry if it came across that way. I literally wrote this two years ago and I didn't think that because I put the word 'baka' in this chapter it would be such an issue. So I've removed the word. I understand it looks weird because everything else is in English and I didn't mean to offend anybody. I only used baka because it means idiot in English and I still do things like this with Italian words in my other oneshots and it was no big deal to anyone. I didn't think using the word Baka would be so culturally inappropriate and 'cringe'. Like I said I removed the word so you don't gotta comment about it. It's upsetting to see comments on it basically saying I'm making fun of the language and that people stopped reading this book because of something I added into a chapter two years ago.
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The clock struck Twelve AM, as you flicked to the next page in your favorite book. You yawned. You should really head to bed. Speaking of; when was that damned fiancé of yours going to show? Nevermind that. Your eyes stayed glued to the pages as you took in the literature, and flipped, and flipped, and flipped.
Next time you looked at the clock, it was Twelve-thirty. You sighed and sat the book down onto the bedside-table, and removed the thick comforter from ontop of you. You arose from your comfy position on the bed, too your feet, and you wiggled your toes against the cold floor, growing custom to it. Another reason why you despised winter; it made the hardwood floors so chilly, even through thick socks!
Anyway, you tiptoed through your lavish mansion, all the way to the kitchen. You grabbed a quick snack and ate it there, and then boiled two cups of tea- One of your favorite, and then Amacha Tea- or, Hydrangea Tea, to be exact. Rohan, your fiance's, favorite. You thought it was odd, though. Amacha Tea was a very, sweet tea. It tasted of pure sugar, honestly. It was very contrasted to the way he liked his coffee, straight black.
Your soon-to-be-husband, was a rather famous Mangaka in Morioh, Japan. His Manga, Pink Dark Boy, had gained quite a large following in a short span of time. Since he was so young, people figured it was something he would bore of; what adult wants to be a professional Manga Illustrator for the rest of their lives? Rohan Kishibe. He took his work seriously; maybe a little...too seriously. Often putting it above everything else. But it paid off in the long run, you supposed. He was already a millionaire, had won plenty of awards, and it made him truly happy, even if he had worked himself to death a few good times.
But alas! The tea was done in just a few minutes. You also grabbed him a few Senbei, rice-crackers, as a little snack. He hadn't eaten since dinner, which you had to practically drag him out of the office to eat. You placed his snacks, and both of your teas onto a platter, and off you went.
You traced back up the flight of stairs and ventured down the hall, to his office. You gave a gentle knock to the door but received no response. "Rohan?." You called, but still, nothing. You shrugged and jostled the knob, pushing the door open. "Rohan?." You asked again, entering the room, eyeing up the emerald-haired man as he sat at his desk.
He must've been so deep in his work, he hadn't heard you. You approached him slowly, and gave a few taps to his shoulder. His head shot around. "Huh? What? What're you doing in here?."
You giggled. "I knocked, even called for you! Did you not hear me idiot?." You teased.
"Oh," He grumbled, sitting his pen down, he rubbed his temples ferociously. "I didn't. Sorry-." He paused for a minute. "So, what do you want?."
"Rude," You rolled your eyes at him, and popped him on the back of the head. "I made you some tea, and brought you a snack- be grateful, warugaki!." You scolded.
"I'm no brat," He retorted. "Amacha Tea?." Inquired, he lifted his head up to look at you.
"You bet." You smiled and placed the platter down on the empty-side of his desk.
"Hmm, thank you, dear." He picked up the porcelain cup, and took a few ginger sips. You patted his head. "Of course, Rohan."
You leant over, and slinked your arms around his shoulders, placing a few hot kisses against his jaw and neck. "When are you coming to bed?~."
He squirmed from your grasp. "Don't start that, (Y/n), I'm busy." You jutted your bottom lip. "But I miss you! You know I can't sleep without you!."
"That doesn't sound like my problem." Despite the apathetic tone in his voice, a smirk sprawled on his lips. He liked knowing you needed him.
"Fine, whatever. I'll just go to bed!."
The smirk dropped.
"Fine." Was all he said. You sneered in annoyance, and picked up your own tea-cup from the platter. You gave a very, buddy-buddy pat to his shoulder and then turned on your heels. "Oh, by the way, honey," You murmured at the doorway.
"Hmm?."
"You're sleeping on the couch tonight." You said, with a sickening grin on your face. He shot around to look at you, but by the time he had, you already walked out and closed the door behind him.
Karma for being an asshat!
Well, not really, you were just fibbing- and he knew that. But you really liked messing with Rohan, because the littlest things got on his nerves- and by littlest, you meant the LITTLEST. You wouldn't be surprised if he came stomping into bed a few moments later.
Nevertheless, you returned to the master-bedroom and cozied back up on your side of the bed. You sipped your tea and read your book, propped up against soft pillows to support you.
As you had guessed, a few minutes later you heard the door to his office open and close, followed by the padding of footsteps, upcoming.
The bedroom door opened and in walked, an obviously irritated, Rohan Kishibe. He had the tray of tea and snacks in hand. He marched over to his side of the bed, sat the tray on the bedside-table, and then placed himself.
"I'm not sleeping on the sofa." He grumbled.
"You're lucky I didn't stick you with the bathtub." You responded, unbothered, eyebrow cocked as you flipped another page in your book.
He scoffed, and took a bite from one of the Senbei's.
"I'm kidding, Rohan." You peered over at him. Was he actually upset? Like, genuinely?
"Sure," he rolled his eyes. "I'm sure if I actually had you would've just left me there to suffer."
"Rohan, please, sleeping on a couch isn't suffering, you're being ridiculous." You placed a palm on his forearm, almost comfortingly.
His smug face never dropped. He reached over and grabbed the remote, and pressed the television on. He was ignoring you. Oh, the forsaken quiet game you had dealt with too much of.
You clicked your tongue against your teeth, marked your page, and set the book aside.
"Come here, lilly-pad." You cooed, and pulled him into an embrace. He hadn't fought, surprisingly, normally if Rohan was aggravated he loathed physical touch; especially if it was just to make him feel better.
"That's what I thought~ Does the Mangaka want to be cuddled, hmm?." You teased, rubbing circles into his clothed-chest.
"Oi, shut it! I'm just too tired to argue."
"Whatever you say, Kishibe."
And so, you two laid wrapped in each others arms, until you both dozed off.