calamitysqueen [answered]:
7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN! DON’T READ BELOW THE CUT!! My muse has drawn your number! Send me “closet” and I’ll generate a number to see what our muses do while stuck in the closet for 7 minutes. [3]
It’s not that she’s ill at ease with the humans, but she is rather curious as to what her Thief’s will do when stuck alone with her when she is obviously not her young master.
In spite of herself, the queen laughs.
This earns her what she suspects is a curious or alarmed look from the boy at her side; she does not bother to check, instead striking up a hum in the back of her throat as she moves and leads him on.
She enters the closet before he does, because she is more prepared than he. Soon, however, Seto is in with her, and someone has closed it behind them both, letting darkness fall over them with a hush. Mischievous, the snake reaches out and grabs hold of one of the straps by his hood, forcing him to bend himself closer to her.
"Now, isn’t this a treat?” Her voice is full and husky, not at all the angry, reedy hiss she’s thrown at him before; fingers flit across Seto’s cheek, light and airy, as though contributing but the barest amounts of effort to ensuring his position. “I don’t think we’ve much had the chance to interact…~ How lovely we’ll be able to rectify that now, hm?”
Should he not pull away (because he is a fool at times; she knows him for what he is), her lips will grace him in full, sliding tongue into a mouth agape with nervousness or awkwardness. Perhaps it’s from memories or practice, but, at the very least, she seems to know what she’s doing.
In no way has he gotten used to the idea that there exists someone who is very obviously Marry but just as obviously not Marry--the idea that that's true for all of them, indeed, still baffles him, though he also knows well enough that his power has a mind of its own in a less-than-figurative sense. And that such an entity would appear during a game like this, already a bit of a strange experience, only makes him feel less at ease--and yet, he finds himself going along with it, out of something between perverse curiosity and... no, it's mostly that, though he does also prefer not to offend Marry or this other side of her.
He tenses at the force on his goggle straps, but does not pull away--her voice and the elegance, the raw charisma of her carriage, are all fitting of one called the Queen, and the telepathic boy is weak to such things, easily captured by her musings as he relaxes, finding a more comfortable way to remain at her level. Lips part to provide some answer to her half-inquiry, just the rhetorical hum at the end of her thoughts, but the malformed words are neatly stolen from them with no chance to even become a sputter of confusion.
--Well, isn't this more or less the point of the game they're playing? Though for a moment he's still caught off guard, having been too busy with thoughts of the girl herself to remember the situation they had been placed in, he remembers it now, though that in no way stops the dust of pink on his cheeks from forming. So he'll reciprocate (in the very least, kissing is enjoyable, and kissing Marry is, well--), tongue meeting hers and keeping pace (though he'll let her set it, as she seems to have already done so without his input anyhow) as a hand lightly comes to rest on her hip.
