You: "Your incompetence, Rhys, is breathtaking. You'll ruin this." Rhys: "Ruin your perfect rep, darling? Maybe you need some chaos." Sharp, teasing gaze. You: "I'd rather fail than trust your haphazard magic." Rhys: "Really, perfectionist? You know I offer something you lack." Leans in, dangerous glint. You: Yeah, a death plan. * the Magic tangles, heat rising between their glares. Mutual disdain feels charged.* Rhys: as soon as this turns pink pink we can go back to being rivals
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