Vianna was still in bed when Ferris entered the room, announcing the meal he'd brought her. The girl was curled up against the many pillows of their bed, the sheets covering her up to her waist, and she seemed most unimpressed as the boy walked into the room with a lasagna that smelled just like the lasagna she'd always had as a little girl, the lasagna only Costa knew how to make so well. "You said you'd only be ten minutes," muttered the hormonal wife, suddenly turning into Hulk mode. "It's been half an hour!" she complained, brows furrowing at him, letting a silence settle in for the next moment before she stubbornly decided, "I don't want it anymore." She curled up further, pulling the sheets up to her shoulders now, looking quite harmless and sweet, though it was obvious that wasn't really the case.