Honey wherever you go, I know
"Is that so?" he scoffs, unable to even pretend offense with the sweep of his smile ruining the game. Clearly not since she hadn't even been a real ghost. He was not about to UHM, actually her though, and she isn't wrong, to some extent. Ghosts can be anywhere, which is part of what made her stunt believable if now utterly obvious in hindsight. "That why graveyards and such have such a reputation, huh? Sounds like ghost expert has to get tacked onto your long list of names." The smirk turns into a fluttering eyeroll and a grumble that doesn't quite find the form of words when she falls into the most obvious theater yet. It only furthers the insistence that she end up with frog remnants smeared on her.
Her response is nothing like he pictured. It's awful, in fact, and for a moment he is rooted, too stunned to even blink. Completely aghast at the idea of frog skin care his features scrunch up in full distaste, leaning away from her like the frogness is contagious and he wants nothing to do with it. "Ew," he says around the outward stick of his tongue, unable to hold back the precursor of a gag. "Is that why your face wash is green??"
He shudders the thought away, much happier to focus on frog murder than beauty products. "Oh, sorry, we can't all be a wild child half feral in the woods," he mocks in return, swinging his pack back around behind him. He knows the proof and the truth ring have to have left some mark, so this is just her at this point, and though it hasn't fully hit him yet that it's a glimmer of what they had been, he's happily caught up in the moment of it than the realization. "Umm, pretty sure toast isn't cooking you momo. It's toasting." He glances up in thought. "Could maybe be considered roasting?" Like a marshmallow, in which case, is that cooking? No. Definitely not.
"Kinda like how you always get roasted," he grins, and reaches to bump her shoulder with his, forgetting that maybe he shouldn't.
Her response is nothing like he pictured. It's awful, in fact, and for a moment he is rooted, too stunned to even blink. Completely aghast at the idea of frog skin care his features scrunch up in full distaste, leaning away from her like the frogness is contagious and he wants nothing to do with it. "Ew," he says around the outward stick of his tongue, unable to hold back the precursor of a gag. "Is that why your face wash is green??"
He shudders the thought away, much happier to focus on frog murder than beauty products. "Oh, sorry, we can't all be a wild child half feral in the woods," he mocks in return, swinging his pack back around behind him. He knows the proof and the truth ring have to have left some mark, so this is just her at this point, and though it hasn't fully hit him yet that it's a glimmer of what they had been, he's happily caught up in the moment of it than the realization. "Umm, pretty sure toast isn't cooking you momo. It's toasting." He glances up in thought. "Could maybe be considered roasting?" Like a marshmallow, in which case, is that cooking? No. Definitely not.
"Kinda like how you always get roasted," he grins, and reaches to bump her shoulder with his, forgetting that maybe he shouldn't.
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
