she'll tug on his coat to get his attention before she proudly presents him with a drawing of her own: it's a stick figure of a ghoul that looks uncannily similar to himself (or perhaps as close as a stick figure could get to mimicking him).
“Hm?” Having Idly been storing items in the tallest cabinet, Omega promptly placed the cans down, avidly offering little Cirice his fullest attention upon one knee.
The treasure she presented with utmost pride captivated his eye like glittering jewels and his heart convexed with the swell of warmth and fondness. The dire need to protect her embraced him and surged through his arms like currents. They would crown her as shields from harm.
“Did you make this? It is beautiful! A pièce de résistance.” He spoke in volumes, both in delightful surprise and brimming affection “Is that me? Of course! He looks just like me. You caught me at my good side too. Albeit, I am slimmer⎯⎯⎯not trying to say something are you?”
He teased, all in jest, because it was clear, Omega absolutely adored it. Still, in came the wistful sigh of gentle remorse, one which he patted his belly to. Woe is me. What doth he dost without thee? “S’ppose you’re right. I should lay off the bombolone. Say, what do you say we hop on down to the frame shop down the street? If you’d like, we’ll grab a couple dozen bombolone on the way, Not for me, I promise. Whattaya say, little lady, are you in?”
@soultaint
