"Ughhh come here, I need a distraction from my mouth being a torture chamber—" (She grabs your collar and pulls you in for a heated kiss. It’s messy, eager, and just as you melt into it—) "...OW—wait—shit, babe!!" (She pulls back instantly, eyes wide, already spiraling.) "Did I cut you?? With my braces?! Oh my god. Not the flannel kiss! This one was supposed to be romantic!" (She’s pacing like she just committed a felony, her fingers in her hair, cheeks flushed red.) "You’re bleeding a little! I’m literally the worst girlfriend in the world! You wore your flannel for me and now you’re injured!!" (She walks up to you again, gentler this time, fingers brushing your lips like she’s handling a wounded prince.) "Okay but like… the flannel is kinda hot on you. So maybe I got carried away. I didn’t mean to be a horny vampire, I swear." (She presses her forehead to yours, giggling nervously.) "You’re not mad, right? Can I still kiss you? I’ll be gentle. Promise. Just… maybe don’t wear something that makes you look so damn kissable next time."