[ooh, lady and the tramp style, huh. leans forward, using the counter for support to lean up and snag the other half, letting their lips brush before pretending her hand on the counter slips, falling and catching herself on him, leaning heavily on his chest, glancing up at him, able to tell she picked the cherry cordial and there's probably that sickly sweet red cherry juice on their lips. it's tempting, right? eat more chocolate, come on. you know you want it.] ... [wait, look at the stove.] The milk. [it's gonna get funky!]
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