There have been reports of various demons affecting the human realm, and Kazuma has been running himself ragged to the point so much so that he was making mistakes that he should not be making mistakes, such as bringing home a new breed of flowers that bore distinctive markings that he should ping as demonic.
By the time Kazuma had brought the flowers home, he was deeply under the flower's influence, thoughts of sex lowly simmering in his mind as cotton candy-spun pollen lightly coated his uniform.]
[It wouldn't be hard to find a home for those thoughts. Curled up in the vintage Chesterfield she had gotten Kazuma to agree to after swearing she would make it her go-to reading chair for the apartment, reading as she swore to, was Youko. She was three quarters of the way through a thick book, one she had been working at for the past few days, and didn't look up as he returned.
Once she finished the sentence she had been on, she tucked her thumb between the pages, and looked toward Kazuma, the same warm smile on her face she showed whenever he came back. One that screams 'welcome home' and 'I missed you' at the same time.]
"It was... it was rough, but it's better now that I am here with you," Kazuma purred softly as he handed her the bouquet of brightly colored flowers. "These grabbed my attention, and I had to get them for you. They aren't sunflowers, but they are yellow." Kazuma answered, tucking his face against the nook of her neck.
"You smell so nice..." Kazuma whispered, his voice dropping in tone. "I just want to lick you all up~"
[His days have faired worse and worse recently. Being neither god nor shinki, she can hardly lend him a hand. The best she can manage is tucking him into their bed to rest, making him up a tray of tea and some food, and removing his glasses when he falls asleep talking.
With practiced ease, she slips her page marker, a bit of blue ribbon, in between the leaves of her book and closes the cover, setting it aside. Freed of her literary pursuits, she can take the bouquet with both hands and a grateful smile.]
That's so sweet. Thank you! I wonder what they are—?
[Not even her mother's interest in flowers bleeding down to her could tell her what these yellow flowers were. But Youko gladly accepts them, getting ready to get up and put them in water when Kazuma buries his face against her neck, and she's forced to sit still. She has to shuffle her hold on things to reach up and run her fingers through his hair.
It should be an act of comfort, but the way his voice drops —]
I took a bath already. I used your soap because mine is almost out, sorry. [She can feel her face turning a familiar shade.] You don't have the energy for that, do you?
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Damn Flowers
There have been reports of various demons affecting the human realm, and Kazuma has been running himself ragged to the point so much so that he was making mistakes that he should not be making mistakes, such as bringing home a new breed of flowers that bore distinctive markings that he should ping as demonic.
By the time Kazuma had brought the flowers home, he was deeply under the flower's influence, thoughts of sex lowly simmering in his mind as cotton candy-spun pollen lightly coated his uniform.]
no subject
Once she finished the sentence she had been on, she tucked her thumb between the pages, and looked toward Kazuma, the same warm smile on her face she showed whenever he came back. One that screams 'welcome home' and 'I missed you' at the same time.]
Did you have a good day, Kazuma?
no subject
"You smell so nice..." Kazuma whispered, his voice dropping in tone. "I just want to lick you all up~"
no subject
[His days have faired worse and worse recently. Being neither god nor shinki, she can hardly lend him a hand. The best she can manage is tucking him into their bed to rest, making him up a tray of tea and some food, and removing his glasses when he falls asleep talking.
With practiced ease, she slips her page marker, a bit of blue ribbon, in between the leaves of her book and closes the cover, setting it aside. Freed of her literary pursuits, she can take the bouquet with both hands and a grateful smile.]
That's so sweet. Thank you! I wonder what they are—?
[Not even her mother's interest in flowers bleeding down to her could tell her what these yellow flowers were. But Youko gladly accepts them, getting ready to get up and put them in water when Kazuma buries his face against her neck, and she's forced to sit still. She has to shuffle her hold on things to reach up and run her fingers through his hair.
It should be an act of comfort, but the way his voice drops —]
I took a bath already. I used your soap because mine is almost out, sorry. [She can feel her face turning a familiar shade.] You don't have the energy for that, do you?