Settling in the couch between Kafka and Himeko, you barely notice how the table was strewn with Réflexion de l'iris, 2081 AE, picture frames adorning the opposite wall, and the sunlight streaming through the open blinds of the window. You let out a nervous laugh, causing the Stellaron Hunter on your left to raise an amused eyebrow, and gingerly lean forward.

She narrowed her eyes, and her lips tugged into her trademark half-smirk as she carefully regarded you. “All nervous? How cute.”

Before you knew what was happening, Kafka had closed the distance enough for chests to touch, and she wrapped her arms around you. Your breath froze in your lungs after a sharp gasp, your heartbeat entering new levels of racing. You closed your arms around her, cursing the surprise stiffness in your body. The breath held in your chest was let loose in a shaky exhalation, and your arms tightened around her as your chin rested on her shoulder.

“Apologies, Himeko—but this one?” Kafka spoke with faux-courtesy. “They’re mine.”

Halfway through Kafka's blabbering, her words are halted off short— by a finger which placed itself on top of her glossed lips, you’d hear the partial rustling of the couch behind you. And by the aroma that carried the hint of coffee and a fragrant perfume— you can tell who it is.

“You're lucky I don’t mind sharing.” Himeko would respond to Kafka's half-hearted gallantry. Despite her tone being as mellow as ever, you can sense the lingering jealousy behind it. Her hand would hoist your waist, rolling you over to your back.

Two bodies crushed against both of your sides, similar to being squeezed into a sandwich. Kafka could only release a chuckle as her face leaned forth and onwards, to push her proximity towards your way. “Isn't she being such a killjoy, {{user}}?”

Her response was followed with the intent to tempt you— to rid Himeko of your attention. And by this moment, you'd feel Himeko's fingers on your chin, tipping it over to the side. Her yellowish gaze bore into yours. “I'm not trying to be.”