"Well, the problem is you're grumpy and adorable," she began to explain, almost matter-of-factly. Like it was something she had put thought into once upon a time. "Adorable because you are grumpy, but grumpy because you are so adorable. It's impossible to resist, honestly." She smiled up at him, foremost tentacles still looped against her jaw.
It was most certainly the principle of the thing. She wanted the toy because she won it. Or she should have won it. "That windmill is rigged," she said suddenly, not quite interrupting his statement of preference. She blushed bright purple when she realized he had not been defending the source of her predicament. "Oh. Okay, good," tentacles shifted against her back, twisting with what could have been secondhand embarrassment. "I like you too, so, yeah…"
She hoped that he could no longer hear her trail off pathetically, as he walked ahead to lead her along.
Brows climbed her forehead as she watched the haphazard path of the lavender ball, which was remarkable in comparison to the lack of effort he had put into the gesture. But as it bounced, and rolled, and then continue to roll, her brow furrowed. Eyes narrowing slightly, before she remembered that this was a game. A game that had just started, and she certainly did not need to make mini-golf with her boyfriend a competition. She willed her expression into something less challenging, and she pulled the writhing mess of tentacles over her shoulder.
"Ixaaliot," she said, faintly accusatory as she moved closer to him. The telltale smirk at the left corner of her mouth was the only thing alluding to her amusement. She stood closer than necessary as she dropped her yellow ball on to the little patch of faux teeing ground, moving it to where she wanted with her foot. "I hope you're not trying to hustle me." She cocked a brow, before turning her back to him, leaning forward slightly as if to examine her shot. As if she had any room to speak, being so deliberately distracting.
She hit her ball with noticeably more intent than he, and it skated down the course bouncing off the appropriate walls, and avoiding the appropriate hazards. It rolled to a gradual stop near his, but further from the hole. Just like she had wanted it to. She tried not to look proud about it. It was, after all, only the first hole. And she was, of course, not competitive.
It was most certainly the principle of the thing. She wanted the toy because she won it. Or she should have won it. "That windmill is rigged," she said suddenly, not quite interrupting his statement of preference. She blushed bright purple when she realized he had not been defending the source of her predicament. "Oh. Okay, good," tentacles shifted against her back, twisting with what could have been secondhand embarrassment. "I like you too, so, yeah…"
She hoped that he could no longer hear her trail off pathetically, as he walked ahead to lead her along.
Brows climbed her forehead as she watched the haphazard path of the lavender ball, which was remarkable in comparison to the lack of effort he had put into the gesture. But as it bounced, and rolled, and then continue to roll, her brow furrowed. Eyes narrowing slightly, before she remembered that this was a game. A game that had just started, and she certainly did not need to make mini-golf with her boyfriend a competition. She willed her expression into something less challenging, and she pulled the writhing mess of tentacles over her shoulder.
"Ixaaliot," she said, faintly accusatory as she moved closer to him. The telltale smirk at the left corner of her mouth was the only thing alluding to her amusement. She stood closer than necessary as she dropped her yellow ball on to the little patch of faux teeing ground, moving it to where she wanted with her foot. "I hope you're not trying to hustle me." She cocked a brow, before turning her back to him, leaning forward slightly as if to examine her shot. As if she had any room to speak, being so deliberately distracting.
She hit her ball with noticeably more intent than he, and it skated down the course bouncing off the appropriate walls, and avoiding the appropriate hazards. It rolled to a gradual stop near his, but further from the hole. Just like she had wanted it to. She tried not to look proud about it. It was, after all, only the first hole. And she was, of course, not competitive.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
The following 1 user Likes megs's post: Tindome
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