Honey wherever you go, I know
So she just called him a mouth breather, huh? The snap is 100% deserved.
The sound of the hit is satisfying, but nothing could top the curling pitch of her indignation. It's a victory he'll laugh about for days on end afterwards whenever he reimagines it, making everything that follows more than worth it.
His wolf's smile is the only response to the wide eyes that rise with all the fire of revenge towards him, stoked so hot it's nearly impossible to catch the familiar sea-green beneath the red glow. A sharp, terrified laugh erupts in answer as to how much spice he'd like, the board of pepper and meat suddenly feeling like a shield of cardboard being lifted against a torrent from a dragon's mouth. He jumps back as her spatula swings—the nacho toppings cartwheel through the air, some scattering into the pan, the rest tumbling to the counters and floors as edible confetti.
"GaaAAAah!" he cries out as the metal connects with his forearm, not fast enough to evade her wrath. "But it's not even supper time!" he blurts out unhelpfully as he backs up, waving his cloth back and forth like nunchucks that he would not be opposed to whipping at her tit if it came to it. Unfortunately her kitchenette doesn't provide ample space for a war, so his retreat is cut short by the bump of a counter behind him. Cornered. "I can kiss it and make it better," he tries to reason.
The sound of the hit is satisfying, but nothing could top the curling pitch of her indignation. It's a victory he'll laugh about for days on end afterwards whenever he reimagines it, making everything that follows more than worth it.
His wolf's smile is the only response to the wide eyes that rise with all the fire of revenge towards him, stoked so hot it's nearly impossible to catch the familiar sea-green beneath the red glow. A sharp, terrified laugh erupts in answer as to how much spice he'd like, the board of pepper and meat suddenly feeling like a shield of cardboard being lifted against a torrent from a dragon's mouth. He jumps back as her spatula swings—the nacho toppings cartwheel through the air, some scattering into the pan, the rest tumbling to the counters and floors as edible confetti.
"GaaAAAah!" he cries out as the metal connects with his forearm, not fast enough to evade her wrath. "But it's not even supper time!" he blurts out unhelpfully as he backs up, waving his cloth back and forth like nunchucks that he would not be opposed to whipping at her tit if it came to it. Unfortunately her kitchenette doesn't provide ample space for a war, so his retreat is cut short by the bump of a counter behind him. Cornered. "I can kiss it and make it better," he tries to reason.
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
