โ โ ๏ธ๏ธ
โ โ โ โ
๐๐๐ฅ๐ง.
(ษดแด แดษชษดแดส๊ฑ. ษด๊ฑ๊ฐแดก. ๊ฑแดสแดแดแดษชแด แด.)
Draag keeps making him. He keeps getting out. Nobodyโs winning, and heโs having the time of his life.
...
Shit. Shit, shit, shit!
Ghoul's cheeks get even redder, the colour now spreading to his neck- but he doesn't budge.
"I'd rather, uh, not, uh, embarrass myself. Ma'am."
โ
what will it take to
๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ,
โโบโงโห เฝเฝฒโโฑโเฝเพ หโโงโบ โ
that itโs not the life
๐ข๐ญ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ฆ๐ฌ .แฃ
Somehow, Ghoul remains right where he is when she approaches, despite the urge to take a step back. Or shrink. Whichever, really.
"Uh," he's mumbling now, cheeks burning. "It's nothin'."
A beat.
"Ma'am."