[ It might say something about her that she actually expects him to stand there and wait. It might say something more when the door opens and there she stands -- all five feet, two inches of her -- in little more than a dark purple robe terminating about mid-thigh with a katana at her side and no hint of shame, carefully checking the contents of what appears to be a somewhat weighted tote even as she minds the doorway and his position with her peripheral. There's a tupperware in her hand and in that tupperware -- well, it's a bentou, really. Homemade, not any of that store bought business, and the tote is full.
Because look, a peephole may allow a somewhat limited viewing, but he looked awfully skinny when she did peep and he came to help her man. That counts for something, but... yeah, she's looking up at him directly now, brow quirked. She forgot to ask. ]
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Because look, a peephole may allow a somewhat limited viewing, but he looked awfully skinny when she did peep and he came to help her man. That counts for something, but... yeah, she's looking up at him directly now, brow quirked. She forgot to ask. ]
You're not allergic to anything, are you?