karmotrinelifesaver:
With how much she likes to get tipsy or just outright drunk, Jill supposed she couldn’t really argue with his first point there. However, it was difficult for her to get there without consuming rather strong, and therefore very throat burning, drinks, which is a sensation she came to adjust to and enjoy, in a way.
“Well, I have sugary and sweet drinks, but I wouldn’t call any of them ‘cake-like.’ Mostly fruity, actually. I suppose I could cover a drink in too much whipped cream to help but I can’t guarantee it’ll be a good combination.” She’s not a miracle worker here.
While Linhardt rambles on, Jill gets to work whipping up (hah, get it?) something fruity and sweet for him to drink, because that was his only option anyway. She was listening, too, but a lot of it didn’t really need to be directly responded to. “I work here. You’re not keeping me here. I get paid to listen to you, essentially.”
By the time he’d finished, she was already preparing a drink in her shaker. For such a small and weak body she had, she was able to put quite a lot of energy into this part, and even keep speaking normally while she did so.’
“Disassembling’s a pain, huh. If y’end up needing a hand, then, feel free to ask and I’ll take you to the back room.”
You peek over to see just exactly what she’s making, giving no signs of protest. Something fruity with the possibility of an absurd amount of whipped cream sounds delightful to you, though you have a feeling she was making an attempt at deadpan humor. You appreciate it, though... you’re having a hard time gauging with how annoyed she is with you or not.
Then she offers to help you disassemble your outfit? Your eyes widen comically, cheeks dusting a light shade of pink. Is she flirting with you? You honestly can’t tell. You’re used to being the one to do the flirting, not the other way around. Oh goodness. How do you go about asking someone something like that?
Well. Only one way to find out.
“Oh. Well. That certainly is a bold offer,” you say, watching as she prepares whatever is in the mystery shaker. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but are you hitting on me? Not that I mind of course, but I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t misreading the situation, in case you were joking, or only offering to help me with this button laden monstrosity.”
You offer a friendly smile from where you’ve laid your head down.
“Entirely fine if that is the case, by the way. I just like to know what I’m saying yes to, if anything.”














