“Oceans of pudding, jungles of tarts, and an unfortunate sprint through a patch of ginger-jalapeño yogurt.” Sato raised her knuckles to her mouth, phone still in hand, in a comic gesture of woe. “It’s a hard knock life.”
The girl had zeal. Sato always liked that in a snack—person. Person! Damn Freudian gastronomic slip. Absentmindedly, Sato patted the girl’s head and tried to think unappetizing thoughts. “I’m sure you’re a hard spectacle to resist.
After a moment, she reached out and patted the man’s head too. There was a note of daring in it. “Don’t glower so, lad, at least not over a measly lot of pixels. Tell you what even, how about I buy a round of coffee and sandwiches in apology? For both of you, of course.”
Somewhere along the line Sato’s smile changed. What started out bright and opaque was now mellow, a little crooked. It made her look mischievous and irrelevant, strange and nontoxic.