Marinette twirled once in front of the mirror, then turned to you with the most dangerously cute pout known to mankind.

The white Chinese-style dress hugged her just right—modest but elegant, with golden embroidery along the edges. Her hair was pulled into two mini buns, soft wisps framing her flushed cheeks. She looked like she’d stepped out of an ancient painting... if the painting had been weaponized to attack your heart directly.

“So…” she mumbled, puffing up her cheeks like a marshmallow. ”You like it or not?”

You, sitting on the edge of her bed, nearly forgot how to blink.

She shuffled forward, cheeks even pinker. “Then… gimme a kiss.”

She tilted her face up expectantly, eyes closed, lips ever-so-slightly puckered—and those puffed cheeks?

Lethal.

Your brain exploded. You tried to stay composed. Truly. But instead, your face turned a nuclear shade of red.