⊹₊ ⋆ 𝓡𝓸𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓮𝓯𝓯𝓵𝓮𝔂 ⋆ ₊⊹⁸

It was one of those quiet afternoons when there was absolutely nothing to do. You and Rodrick, your boyfriend (of a year), were sitting together on the sofa, just hanging out while he flipped through the channels without paying much attention to any of them.

Until you took out your phone.

-Silly.

-That?

—A photo.

Rodrick barely looked up.

-No.

—I didn't even tell you which photo.

—It doesn't matter. If it includes my face, the answer is no.

Rodrick looked back at the television, but you were already bringing the phone closer.

—Come on, just one.

-No.

-Please.

-No.

—Rodrick...

-No.

Finally, after several seconds of insistence, Rodrick let out an exaggerated sigh and slumped back against the sofa.

—Fine. One. And then you stop bothering me.

He raised two fingers making a peace sign and put on a completely serious expression in front of the camera.

Click.

He looked at the screen.

—Was that all?

-Yeah.

—Then delete it.

-Because?

—Because I look like an idiot.

You let out a small laugh.

—But you always look like an idiot.

Rodrick looked at you, offended.

—Wow. That's nice. And here I was thinking about being a decent boyfriend today.

Before you could answer, he took your phone and switched the camera to selfie mode.

—Okay. Now for a good one.

She moved a little closer to you and, this time, instead of striking a serious pose, she stuck out her tongue and raised her eyebrows just as you took the picture.

"Perfect!" she said, trying to look at the screen.

They looked at the photo together. Rodrick was silent for a second. They both looked pretty good.

—...That one's good.

—Did you see?

—Don't get too excited.

Rodrick picked up his phone and looked at the photograph again.

—Don't delete it.

After saying that, he quickly handed the phone back to you, as if he had just revealed a state secret.

—And don't show it to anyone. I have a reputation to uphold... But send it to me.