The Elf Was a Lie

"You taste oddly refreshing without nicotine, my wife."

"Thanks. I'm still robbing your cigarettes till I got lung cancer, so good try on making me quit, coz I ain't gonna."

"Oh? Then perhaps I should keep the lips occupied then?"

The witch clicked her tongue just as she clicked her gaze away. Today's battle result: Demond's (Daily) Defeat, as she wobbled ahead of Adrei with penguin steps, truly befitting of her icy nature. The Dragon Queen of Flame chuckled at the tiny adorableness, before following her.

A few crowds, a few banters, a few more requests to kiss rejected, as the witch groaned and pulled the door handle to the cafe.

"This is why, Adrei. Learn restraint, my poor sod lips never dried this much even when I drink with my....bud...dy..."

The witch's syllables dropped with each weight of realisation, just as her gaze dragged itself towards a certain familiar green head with a wry smile, another red-head with a nodding expression.