{* the vending machine takes his change. his eyes narrow on the bright red picture of cola just waiting to be tasted—he bites out a curse before stiffening outright. shocked. } no, no, no, /no/. {* he can feel it, lingering at the edges of his senses, as he turns in slow motion to gaze upon the figure approaching the machine with horror. tall, pretty; she's only damned by the butterflies that he can feel in his stomach as she smiles and blushes at something on her phone. he's going to be ill— }
( * she finds that this route was important—very, very important. the character who had appealed to her the most—the shadowy, mysterious demon king—was finally beginning to open up to her and reveal layer upon layer of moe. she couldn’t afford to fuck this up. he had to love her. ) oh gardis— ( * she’s an idiot too sucked into her phone’s little game, into how the pile of pixels that had tried to kill her just a few hours ago was taking her to his favourite secret part of his palace—what progress! a line of text finishes her off for the next few minutes, and she slams on her home button, slipping her phone into her pocket as she cradles her own cheeks. looking ahead fo her, she tilts her head at the sight of an unfamiliar boy, staring at her in what appears to be horror—she looks behind her, searching for something, obviously confused, before whipping back around. ) is there something on my face? ( * o A o )