"Life isn't faiiiiiiir," she groaned. She flung herself dramatically onto Seto's office rug, sprawling herself onto her back with a muffled thump.
"That has always been the case," Seto remarked, pausing and wheeling his desk chair around until he was in front of Kisara. "But then, it can't just be biased against you, so that kind of evens the playing field, don't you think?"
Kisara groaned, shaking her head violently. Some days were fine, and she felt happy and productive and worthy of the richest twenty-three year old in Domino City. Then there was today.
Today had felt like an exercise in continual humiliation. She had woken up late, discovering that Seto's pillow was already gone, and the man was, probably, already hard at work downtown at nine-fifteen on a Tuesday morning. She was subsequently late to class, and hid in the back row under the projector, trying to eat her almond croissant as inconspicuously as possible—a bad choice of breakfast pastry, considering that it left an explosion of powdered sugar and flaky crumbs all over her desk, lap, and the floor around her. Deciding that the class was a wash, Kisara resolved to sneak out of class, only to bang her knee loudly on the chair in front of her on the way out, attracting the attention of everyone in the room as she awkwardly froze like a deer trapped in the headlights, feeling hot with shame as she sprinted towards the door. As she tried desperately to collect herself, she realized that she had left her phone in the lecture hall, and crept back in to retrieve it, painfully aware of her professor's eyes tracking her scuffle of movement in the back of the classroom. And by one-fifteen in the afternoon, she was sprawled across the rug in her boyfriend's office. An expensive rug, probably, worth more than she ever would be. A rug that was walked on countless times every day by her billion-dollar boyfriend. Kisara's dark blue eyes squeezed shut, and she groaned as a fresh wave of shame and embarrassment washed over her.
"Don't do that." Kisara was suddenly aware of a firm pair of arms lifting her off of the rug, and she found herself in Seto's lap, with his arms wrapped tightly around her. "You can't throw yourself onto the floor at the first sign of adversity."
Kisara glared at him, protesting with a soft grumble as he pecked gently at her cheek. "You've never had one of those days?" she said, unsure of whether to be annoyed or amused at Seto's mock-patronizing behavior.
Seto smiled, resting his chin against the hollow of Kisara's neck. "You're going to have to be more specific."
Kisara curled her hand around Seto's arm. "One of those days when you just, as much as you try, you just can't do anything right."
Seto lifted her up, placing her gently on her feet, shuffling to stand in front of her. Wearily, Kisara balanced herself on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around Seto's neck and pulling him closer to her; in return, she felt his arms pull her in close to his body.
"I can't say I have." His voice, though not lacking its signature cool finesse, sounded slightly amused.
Kisara sighed. "Not now, Seto," she grumbled.
His face was pressed to hers; she could feel his cheeks tighten as he smiled, giving her a little extra squeeze. "It's all right, Kisara. Some of just don't have entire days to waste."
Her eyebrows furrowed with indignation, and she took a step backwards, folding her arms across her chest. Accidentally or not, he had touched on one of her deepest insecurities—that she was too small, too stupid, too insignificant to adequately fulfill the role of Seto Kaiba's girlfriend. "Jerk," she spat.
Seto's eyes narrowed coolly, and Kisara became distinctly aware that he was playing with her, which stoked her irritation even further; she could feel the color rising in her cheeks. "The day's not over yet, Kisara. Don't tell me you've ruined the whole thing?"
She glared at him, brows deeply furrowed. "Hey, screw you," she snapped.
Seto continued to stare at her. His eyebrow arched almost imperceptibly higher. "Go on."
"Fine! Yeah, I have more work to do," Kisara sighed. "Don't be so patronizing."
Seto smirked, closing the distance between himself and Kisara, and planting a kiss on her cheek. "That's more like it," he said encouragingly.
"You're being a jerk again," Kisara warned.
"And you're not whining on the floor of my office."
Kisara rolled her eyes, begrudgingly returning Seto's kiss. "That's right, I have things to do."