[This is it. This is how Sayori dies. With a bouquet of rapidly-cooling flower churros in one arm and the other tucked way too firmly against Mista, while her head explodes from the amount of blood that is rushing to it.
She is still too full of churro to talk for a few moments, but he can feel it. Each suggestion he poses is like hammering a nail into the coffin of her dignity. Is she supposed to answer those questions?? Really???
There's a long, muffled whine of protest at this vicious teasing/flirting/both. That's all she can manage as she chews. Chews. Chews. And then swallows.
1/3
She is still too full of churro to talk for a few moments, but he can feel it. Each suggestion he poses is like hammering a nail into the coffin of her dignity. Is she supposed to answer those questions?? Really???
There's a long, muffled whine of protest at this vicious teasing/flirting/both. That's all she can manage as she chews. Chews. Chews. And then swallows.
God.] It's like— I mean—