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"You almost done in there? We're gonna be late fer our reservation

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"You almost done in there? We're gonna be late fer our reservation."




Osamu's voice is muffled as he speaks to you from the other side of the hotel door, waiting patiently— or, impatiently— for you to finish getting dressed for the upscale restaurant that the two of you decided on for your evening out together... as business partners, of course.



"Patience, Miya. We all can't just throw on a button down and be satisfied with the results," you hissed, hurriedly preparing the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— annoyed with how Osamu had merely changed his clothing, fluffed his hair and spritzed some cologne, managing to walk out of there looking like a runway model with such minimal effort.



"Not my fault I'm so pretty," he teases with a chuckle, imagining how jeered your face looks right now— probably contorted into a scowl, eyes rolled to ceiling with how moronic you must find his declaration.


"... shut up."


Well, that certainly wasn't a denial; do you actually think he's pretty? He can't help but smile at the thought, though any sort of fantasizing is cut short as the door finally swings open, and out steps the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.


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