Why Do You Love Me ── MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

ii. stormy drive

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

REINA'S POV

"You know," Matthew says, sidling up beside me where I'm positioned at the sink in Stef's kitchen, "we have a duty with our roles now."

I spare him a glance, already growing irritated by the unnecessary closeness of where he stands. "You're a guy, you do little to nothing in the wedding planning process. All the heavy lifting is left for me and Stef."

I half-expect him to step away, as he usually does when I send a snarky remark his way. But he does the opposite, turning so he's leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. I pause my scrubbing of a dish, hands still beneath the running water as I regard him with a raised eyebrow. His lips quirk up the slightest bit, but he doesn't grace me with the explanation I was so clearly asking for. Obviously, he wanted me to outright ask him, and judging by the smug expression on his face, he would just stay standing here until I spoke.

I huffed, dropping the dish in the sink, and fully turning to him. "I'll bite. Why are you looking at me like I'm wrong?"

"Hm. Because you are." I hate how smug he sounds, and I make that known as I settle a steady glare on him. It prompts a chuckle from him, and he lowers his hands to rest against the counter, pushing himself up into a standing position. "Stef has a full-time job, Dylan doesn't, and not to mention the guy hasn't made a single decision by himself in like twenty years. So, who is gonna be tagging along to speak on his behalf when he's indecisive, and who is going to be there when Stef is otherwise occupied?"

I hate that his logic checked out. But more so, I hate that I hadn't connected the dots before he had to explain it to me, because the amused glint in his eyes right now infuriates me more than the words he's saying. Of course, Stef would be otherwise too busy to plan every single detail of her wedding. She wasn't like me, who had to plan everything herself because she didn't trust anybody else to get her vision right, Stef put her trust in anybody who knew her well enough. Lucky me, I know her the best. So she'd have no problem handing off something as big as her wedding responsibilities down to me, as long as she knew I'd be under the supervision of Dylan. And he'd be under the supervision of Matthew because he's a child who can't make a single decision for himself.

Kidding. Love you, Dylan.

But seriously, we're grown adults, get your shit together.

I must have been glaring at Matthew for a good twenty seconds before I scoff, begrudgingly returning to my dishwashing. "Okay, we'll see each other more often, so what? It doesn't mean I'm gonna be cordial towards you."

He chuckles in response, and I can feel his eyes burning into my side profile. "I'd expect nothing less, princess."

I stiffen at the name, and instantly, my narrowed eyes meet with his. The nickname came off his tongue so smoothly, which is to expected, because he's been calling me it for for a majority of the time we've known each other. You can thank drunk Reina for giving an unnecessary explanation as to how her name translated to queen, a name that she claimed was given to her because of who she was in her past life. You could imagine I regretted that the next morning when Matthew gifted me the nickname 'Princess' in front of all our friends over breakfast. Believe me, I've tried to put a stop to the name from the moment it started, but it seemed that Matthew found joy in watching me grow angry with him. That hasn't changed since even now a smile is spreading across his lips as I glower at him.