( it is, unfortunately, not the first time he's been at the whims of fuuta's bad moods--but maybe that's his own fault, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. the only reaction he has is the broad lift of his brows, but they're hidden beneath his bangs, anyway, so that's that--instead, he looks back into the mirror, as though ensuring that the sunglasses are on correctly. it's probably a little odd, and doesn't really go with the outfit; with another sigh, annoyed, he decides to drag them off again.

a sidelong glance at fuuta again, glancing down at the foundation, and then back up at him, lips pursed-- )

Is it embarrassing? If they kick me out, they kick me out, but at least I look good doing it.

( his ego, apparently, is not one to be messed with, even dressed like this; he folds his sunglasses up, setting them on the table in front of him. )

If you give up everything before you even try, no wonder you're miserable. ( with a quirk of a smile, his bright blue eyes beaming. ) I'll hold your hand. If it doesn't work, and you don't get your nap, then I'll owe you.

( that doesn't bother him, either. if fuuta wants credits, he has them; if he wants to embarrass him, somehow, in exchange, he'll have to work pretty hard. nothing that he can ask for, in his view, would be all that terrible. )