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"Okay, okay…"
"Okay, okay…"
"Sorry…" she mumbled. "Let's see you have eight-inch-long poisonous wrist spurs and not be self-conscious…"
"I'm literally the tallest demon ever. I'm fucking self-conscious about that…"
"I forget." She hugged him.
(Do you like my choice of president)
(YES, BETTER THAN THE ORANGE BASTARD WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED!!)
(She would give everyone free sugar and make sure nobody was sad)
(Plus she takes payment in the form of belly rubs)
(TAXES ARE GONE; BELLYRUBS REPLACE TAXES)
(And sugar)
"Should we go on a walk, then?"
"Right." And so they went outside.
It was pleasantly cool, but still steamingly humid. Nyx felt her forehead begin to tingle, a sure sign that she'd start sweating soon; sure enough, little beads of milk appeared on her forehead.
"It's warm, yet cold." He noticed
"Yeah…" No you.
"You're sweating."
"I know that," she said dryly, a drop dripping off of her nose.
"You need to chill. LITERALLY!" He handed her a powerful yet small fan.
"Where on earth did you get that from?" She clicked it on. "Oh, thank you."
"No problem."
She leaned against him and entwined her fingers with his.
"I love you."
"I love you too…"
"I love you to Tartarus and back…"
She looked him in the eyes. "Well, that's counterintuitive, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
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