"I can't even begin to start on how terrible that movie was!"

Blumiere, who had been quietly reading his novel, lifted his gaze at the disturbance, a brow arched at his wife's sudden outburst.

"Firstly," she continued, pacing about the room in an angry fashion, "what kind of women uses heels— heels of all things!— to run? As fashionable as they are to wear, they are not ideal for running. It's possible, yes, but that doesn't mean people should do it! Do they even realize the effect this could have on others?! Honestly!"

And on and on Timpani went, passionately criticizing some movie she had watched earlier. Blumiere merely watches as she does so, lips curling with amusement. She was only rarely like this. Usually it'd be over something serious, say, an ignorant opinion of a more ignorant person, who prompts others to take in a reckless and an even more ignorant action that would affect either or both of them. That, and that one time where his boss had forced him to work overtime. Least to say, at the end of the conversation, he was relieved of a good portion of his work and had more free time to spend at home. Hence why he was able to read such an absorbing book today. That is, until his wife decided to barge into the house.

Seeing that he wouldn't be able to continue his reading for the day, he closed it with a soft fwump, but not before he had a bookmark neatly placed inside. It's then placed onto the table besides him, set aside for later. His eyes were back on her again, watching, but not entirely listening. As this went on, an idea popped into his mind. A very, very interesting idea that would stop her ranting.

A chuckle escaped him, and his wife's attention turned to the sound, surprised. But the second her eyes met his Timpani stopped dead in her tracks, for a dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. She took a moment to glare at him.

"Blumiere, don't you dare."

He rose out of his chair, grinning as she takes a step back from him.

"Blumiere." He took a step forward. She took one backwards.

"Stop it." Another step forward, another step back.

"I'm warning you mister!" One last step and her back was against the wall, a shadow looming over her form. A whine escapes her.

"Blumiere, I am a grown woman for Grambi's sake!"

"Are you absolutely certain?"

Her arms folded over her chest and she scoffs. "That shouldn't even be a question—"

A mix between a screech and a cry is suddenly torn from her throat as Blumiere sweeps Timpani off in one smooth move, plopping down on the couch next to him with her on his lap. She gave out another whine as she squirmed on top of him, trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Blumiere. Blumiere please."

He huffs. "No. If you're going to act childish, I might as well."

She pouted at his reply, brows furrowed as she glowered at him. He merely stares back, an amused smile playing on his face.

"Oh. What a childish expression."

She flared at that, eyes narrowed as her face flushes a brilliant shade of red. Despite her glare, he laughs, the sound vibrating throughout his chest with a low rumble. And, upon hearing such, her anger slowly faded away, glare easing as she begins to smile. Soon enough she's laughing with him, and it was almost as if she was never angry to begin with.