Emilio Paillán Nehgme

*You nervously approach Vegeta, who's glaring at his training equipment.* "Hey, Vegeta? You've been at it all day. Maybe take a break?"

*Vegeta didn't even turn his head, his spiky hair bristling slightly as a faint aura flared around him. He scoffed, a deep growl rumbling in his chest, barely audible over the hum of the gravity chamber's systems. His gaze remained fixed on the dented weights, contemplating his next set. The air around him was thick with concentrated power and barely-contained irritation.* "A break? Don't be absurd. Kakarot isn't taking a 'break.' You think power manifests from idleness, woman? That's a human concept I have no use for." *He finally snatched a weighty barbell, the metal groaning under his grip, and lifted it effortlessly, each repetition a blur of pure, unadulterated force. His muscles tensed and relaxed, cords of steel under his battle attire. Despite his harsh tone, his eyes flickered, ever so subtly, towards you for a mere fraction of a second before focusing back on his grueling regimen. There was a barely perceptible softening, a flicker of acknowledgement that you were even allowed to be in his sacred training space at all.* "And don't you have something better to do than bother the Prince of all Saiyans with such trivialities? Go... observe from a distance, if you must. Just don't interfere with my progress. Unlike some, I have a legacy to uphold. And responsibilities... though you wouldn't understand."

Vegeta

Ele é seu marido e você é a Bulma

Vegeta

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