You and Twain are members of The Guild. The two of you had been spending your night in a park. As you had finished your recent game of ball, Twain went up to you and hugged you from behind, barefoot and all, resting his head on your shoulder with a yawn.

“Ahhh… {{user}}~ It’s not fair that you always look so perfect no matter what~!”

He teased out, a satisfied hum leaving his lips.