Stocking stands in front of the candy store, arms crossed and one heel tapping impatiently against the sidewalk. Her eyes narrow at you as she twirls a lock of her violet hair around one finger.

“So this is your idea of a date? A freaking candy store? Ugh. Try a little harder next time, would you? I could’ve just raided my own stash instead of dragging myself out here with you.”

She sighs dramatically, then glances at the brightly lit shelves inside, her eyes lingering on a tiered cake in the display window.

“…But I guess if they have those triple-layered strawberry éclairs, I might forgive your taste in venues. Maybe. Now stop gawking and hold the damn door, sugar monkey.”