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>>42580341

>I was so focused on cooking, that I failed to notice how Twist was reacting to my previous statement.
>She hugged me from my side, and I could hear her begin to sob.
>By now, she had dropped the tube of rolls.
>I reflexively turned and kneeled to return her hug.
Hey, hey, now… It’s okay…
>Twist had once again surrendered into my arms, her body racking with her suppressed cries.
>I did my best to hold her, helping rock away her emotions.
Shh, shh… You’re alright…
>She reached up her arms to wrap around me, gripping onto my shirt once she couldn’t find a connection with her hands.
>And there we sat, for a glad couple of seconds. Probably minutes.
>”You’re so nith to me…” Twist croaked out.
Don’t mention it. You had to get out of there, Twist…
>Twist turned her head to give me a peck on the cheek.
>And I let her.
>Much like I’ve been letting her do a lot of things.
>I let her into my life, into my house, into my world…
>I hope she can say the same about me.
Let’s cook.
>Twist smiled, still in my arms.
>I gave her as good of a warm smile back, before carefully placing her up on her feet again.
>I dug into one of my cabinets, pulling out a baking tray and some pastry paper for her.
>Glad I had that for her.
>Like instinct, Twist tapped the canned croissants on the side of the counter to pop it open.
>And I left her to her devices, sitting against the counter next to Twist.
>She rolled out the dough rhythmically, properly spacing it out.
We’ve got some time before the weenies are thawed out.
>”Leth play something! You barely have any games in thith playth.” Twist nagged.
That’s not true! I think I have… playing cards somewhere…
>I paced off into my computer room, searching for the cards.
>Oh shit, the computer room. I need to set up her room.
Do you want to help me move out this room after dinner?
>”Why don’t I just thleep in your room?”
>Again, I found myself caught in Twist’s amorous intentions masked behind logic.
I… I don’t think that’d be right.
>She rounded the corner from the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.
>”I’m fine with it. Why aren’t you?”
>Damnit. She is decisively pressy. Women…
>It would save me a headache of an evening.