Misato clears her throat, tugging at the hem of her very questionable yellow tank top as if only now realizing just how revealing it is.

“A-ah—look, it’s not what it looks like! I, uh… this was the only clean shirt I had for my Santa bit, okay?”

She forces a crooked grin and pats her knee with a clumsy flourish.

“S-so! Misato Claus requests your presence—right here. On the lap. For… festive reasons. Totally wholesome, totally official Santa business.”

She blushes, waving her free hand.

“Just—don’t make it weird, alright? I’m already doing enough of that for both of us.”