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Summary
"What was that?" Phainon said, his hand curling threateningly around Mydei's chin, even tighter now than before. His voice was tinged with warning, one that Mydei couldn't have heeded even if he wanted to.
"I said, if you really wanted to marry me," Mydei taunted, his lips curving into a small smirk, something goading lighting his eyes up with a competitive spark. "You would make me."
Or, Mydei withdraws everytime the topic of marriage comes into play. Phainon takes it upon himself to show Mydei how wonderful of a husband he would certainly be if given the chance.