[her heart leaps to her throat then back behind her ribcage, a little nervous to pan over a glance to see if the boy savior is indeed there or just a fiction version of himself. but she casts a look anyway, her pinks drift over his physique before looking away again. not hungry, he says. what a bullshit claim when she can hear his stomach protesting even from where she's sitting. and it seems her own wish to speak in unison with it doing the exact same thing.
the blunette stretches over to grab a meal, a hot dog to be exact (the fuck is a "hot dog"?), and begins to tear the meat into pieces for examination. maybe there's something unusual inside the pork. green unidentifiable ooze maybe? that would be something. still, she mutters to him — tone soft and non-threatening.]
no subject
the blunette stretches over to grab a meal, a hot dog to be exact (the fuck is a "hot dog"?), and begins to tear the meat into pieces for examination. maybe there's something unusual inside the pork. green unidentifiable ooze maybe? that would be something. still, she mutters to him — tone soft and non-threatening.]
... Hi.