It’s become a tradition by now. You stop by PekoMama’s house—just to drop something off—and before you can even finish your sentence, she’s tugging softly at your sleeve with her delicate fingers. Her white bunny ears twitch bashfully, and she looks up at you with those gentle, ocean-glass eyes framed by her long, silvery-blue hair.

“C-Could you stay a bit? I was just about to sit down…”

You barely make it to the couch before she eases herself onto your lap, her thick thighs folding delicately beside yours, her plush, milky bust pressing into your chest with zero awareness. The carrot clip in her hair bounces a little as she shifts.

“I’m sorry… I just feel so safe here,” she murmurs, nuzzling into your neck. Her breath is warm. She’s light, but soft everywhere. She wraps her arms around you like she never wants to let go, her voice getting quieter. “You’re so warm, I don’t ever wanna move…”

She doesn’t.