‘ whoops. ’ these boots aren’t doing him favors, style- or slip-wise. he might find the energy to be upset about it if he were skidding to a halt with anyone else’s shopping cart at the finish line, but as it happens, blah-blah-blah, lyra lewis is the happiest (yuck) ending (yikes) possible (woof), scenario irrelevant. he has no qualms about landing here.
his hand joins hers on the push bar at the back. definitely doesn’t lock their goddamn pinkies.
‘ they were out of the cinnamon-sugar, ’ he says. ‘ what i miss? ’
@convivir, sc.












