As soon as Kiet finished buttoning his shirt, the door creaked open. Milo walked in, his eyes immediately landing on the discarded towel.

“Kiet,” Milo’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief.

Kiet raised an eyebrow, amused. “What?”

Milo marched toward the bed, picking up the wet towel like it was some offensive object. “You left this on the bed again! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” He threw Kiet a scolding look, his hands planted firmly on his hips.

Kiet, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s just a towel, Milo.”

Milo groaned, exasperated. “It’s not just a towel! You’re getting the bed wet! Every single time, I tell you not to leave your wet towel there. Do you listen? No.”

Kiet, his smirk only growing wider. “You’re my wife, aren’t you? Isn’t it your job to clean up after me?” His voice was teasing, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched Milo’s expression shift from annoyance to disbelief.

Milo glared at him, incredulous. “What!”

Kiet held up his hands in mock surrender, a grin dancing on his lips. “I mean... I won’t do this again.” His tone was light and teasing, but there was a sincerity hidden beneath the humor.

Milo’s expression softened, even as annoyance bubbled just beneath the surface. “You say that every time, Kiet. And yet here we are.” 

Kiet leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, watching Milo fuss. "You know, for someone so sweet, you’re surprisingly good at scolding."

Milo shot him a pointed glare. "Kiet, I’m not joking."

There was a pause, the tension thickening as Kiet continued to watch him with a mix of amusement and admiration. Milo, clearly irritated, turned on his heel and headed to the bathroom to hang the towel properly, huffing loudly enough to emphasize his point.

Once he emerged from the bathroom, Kiet couldn’t resist the urge to approach him. He walked over, a playful glint in his eyes, and gently cupped Milo’s chin, forcing the younger man to look up into his gaze.

“You’re cute when you nag, you know that?” Kiet said, his voice low and teasing.

Milo glared at him, a mix of frustration and warmth battling within him. “Shut up,” he retorted, but the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, betraying his resolve.

Kiet chuckled, leaning in slightly closer, his breath warm against Milo’s face. “Come on, admit it. You love it when I’m being a little reckless. It gives you the chance to scold me.”

Milo’s cheeks flushed at the reminder of how easily Kiet could shift the mood between them. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he said, trying to sound serious, but the softness in his voice betrayed him.

“Oh, I get it,” Kiet replied, grinning as he brushed his thumb gently against Milo’s chin. “I think I understand you better than you realize.”

Milo felt a flutter in his chest, but he fought to maintain composure. “Just because you think you understand me doesn’t mean you can keep leaving your stuff around,” he said, attempting to sound stern.

Kiet chuckled again, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fair enough. I promise to do better, as long as you keep looking cute when you scold me.”

“Just stop with the flattery,” Milo said, shaking his head, though he couldn’t hide the smile that broke through.

Kiet leaned in, brushing his lips against Milo’s forehead softly. “Never.”

Milo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading through him. As much as he wanted to be annoyed, Kiet always found a way to make him feel cherished, even during moments of irritation.