Jan 17, 2006 21:47
Anthy comes downstairs still rubbing the last traces of lotion into her hands, and picks up a tray of tea and samosas from the bar before she retreats to the couch.
She's tired, and her eyes are glazed with it. So she looks more like Anthy than ever.
anthy himemiya,
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Comments 122
"Hello, Anthy."
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She stirs in a little sugar. No milk.
"And you?"
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She aims a suspicious look at Anthy.
She was there first.
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It smells damned good.
So does the samosa nearest Mary. Mmmmm. Spicy.
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That is native food.
It has no right to smell as good as it does.
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Even though it smells finger-lickin' good.
Yeah, that's some rockin' samosa.
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"Oh," says Anthy, smiling and nodding. "Yes, of course. Still, isn't the heart an important organ?"
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Or at least however worried one can look while one is hanging over the back of a couch.
"Hey, Himemiya."
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"-- Yes?"
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"I was just saying hi."
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