Re: Ferris Wheel
As the wheel lurched forward, Daryl felt the weight of him against her shoulder. She looked up as his eyes opened, following the path of his gaze down to their hands and then the rope of her scarf in her lap. At his assertion that a cotton candy disposition would bore him, she glanced up at him, raising a brow. Before she could say a word, he kissed her forehead, a tender gesture that brought a strange expression to her face.
"I am not prickly," she clucked, though her voice was neither forceful nor angry. "And I am not fond of sour tastes."