As he stepped out of the hospital room for a moment, leaving Masaru to his wandering thoughts, thinking he wouldn't notice his absence...
The celestials locked eyes—one awkwardly, his gaze dodging hers like it was trying to escape into the walls.
"How long are we going to keep hiding that we're married?" she asked, her voice low but laced with frustration.
He sighed, the weight of years spent in hiding bearing down on his shoulders. It had already been five years since they'd exchanged vows in a discreet, almost clandestine ceremony, witnessed only by an impatient judge and two rented stand-ins.
"Until we buy an apartment of our own," he replied with that half-sarcastic, half-defeated tone. "Mister Responsible..."
She furrowed her brow, shot him a sharp look, and without ceremony, elbowed him in the ribs, followed by a pointed but light stomp on his foot.
"And don't come at me with excuses! You saved enough to fix the car AND make a down payment on an apartment!" her voice rose a pitch, her eyes flashing. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"But—"
"But what, Gabriel? Don't forget I paid for your designer suits and those fancy little watches so you could strut around looking hot at those events!"
He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying a word. Facts don't argue. Just another sigh escaped him.
He thought. Weighed it.
"Okay..."
"Okay?" she raised an eyebrow, arms crossing with razor-sharp theatrical flair. "Okay what, huh? Speak clearly with me… you bald bastard!"
"Uh—" his eyes widened in offense. "That's just cruel, babe..."
"Babe? Wasn't it Elizabeth?"
"Sorry…"
"Sorry?"
"Sorry, babe?"
She narrowed her eyes even more, and for a second, he was sure she was going to throw him off the balcony.
"You're sleeping on the couch tonight."
"But we only have one bed…"
"And a very fluffy rug. Good luck!"