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>You exhale, hot breath forming clouds in the cold air as you leaned against the pillar. Through your coat, you barely felt the cold—though it nipped at your nose and ears, you were willing to wait as long as it took.
>Not that you had to, of course—one of the many benefits of being Kronii's partner was that you never had to wait long. The door opens inwards almost as soon as the doorbell's sound stops.
>"Hey," you nod, smiling at her. She's dressed remarkably comfortably—a fluffy-looking cream-colored tutrtleneck and a pair of jeans, though they were still as form-fitting as her other clothes. "How's it going?"
>"Okay, I suppose," she shrugs, stepping back to allow you inside. You had been dating for a few months, and you knew Kronii enough to decipher the truth behind that statement.
>"Is ther anything I can do?" you ask, as she seats herself on the small couch, flicking on the TV with a waved finger. For Kronii, if she was doing 'great', she was really 'good'. If she was 'good', it was 'fine'. If things were 'fine', something was off. If it was only 'okay'…
>"I said I'm alright," she insists. Still, you sit down next to her, adding your body heat to hers. Her place didn't have great insulation, and with the cold air following you in, it only got worse. Kronii didn't suffer, if it was too cold or too hot, but she didn't *like* it either.
>You move in closer, and snake an arm around her back, pulling her against you. She grumbles under her breath, but allows it. She spends a lot of time trying to look strong, and ignoring her own wants in favor of looking perfect at all times. It's something you've always found puzzling, hoenstly.
>You recall, fondly, the time when you came over to Kronii's place unexpectedly, and saw her practicing cooking. Nothing had been on fire, or anything—the food wasn't even *bad*, just… 'okay'.. But the revelation that anything she did was less than perfecton the first try was something that shook her to the core—it took her weeks to get over that, and weeks more for you to get tired of teasing her about it.
>"You wanna watch a movie?" you ask, still looking for something to distract her. You're not sure what exactly happened to upset her, but you want to help her feel better, of course.
>"Maybe. I dunno," she mutters, turning to lay her head on your chest, her words muffled by your body. She sighs softly, and you reach up to stroke her hair in a manner you hope is calming.
>She doesn't stop you, so you continue—the low buzz of the TV advertising some toothpaste brand fading into the background as you try to soothe your girlfriend. It's a rare moment of weakness, showing you this, but you're glad that she can open up to you more, these days.
>"Knock knock!" Kronii jumps, and you flinch as well—two loud knocks issue from the entrance, and then the door swings open.
>Kronii pulls away from you, quickly fixing her hair as Sana strides in, practically skipping down the hall to the living room.
>"Oh! I didn't know you were here, Anon!" She grins at you as she plops herself down in a big chair. "Sorry if I interrupted something!" The way her eyebrows waggle contrast with the innocent apologetic expression she wears, but you've also grown used to Sana's peculiarites by now.
>At least she didn't try to kiss you again. That incident had been *particularly* embarrassing.
>"Whatever." Kronii's gaze falls on the spacey girl. Ha—spacey. "Did something happen? You didn't say anything abut dropping in."
>"Oh, right!" Sana taps herself on the forehead, chuckling. "I totally forgot to say something!"
>You straighten your posture, feeling Kronii's gaze on you. She was a bit weird about PDA—you learned that lesson the third time you were scolded for trying to take her hand in public.
>"Anyway, I just drpped by because I miss you!" she says, giving Kronii an honest smile. "Plus, I was toing an errand for Faufau, and I was in the area," she shrugs.
>"What kind of errand?" you ask, a bit curious. Sana's eyes sparkle, and she leans forward.
>"She gave me this!" she tells you, a bottle of… something appearing in her hand. It looked like… milk, in a small plastic jug. "She told me she was experimenting with something, and this was a failure. I think she wanted me to throw it away, but I smelled it, and it doesn't smell rotten or anything."
>"Is it dangerous?" you ask, a bit concerned—Sana was a bit prone to acting without thinking, and if she drank some of it…
>"I dunno. Probably not," she shrugs. "I mean, otherwise, she would've said something, right? Other than just telling me I should throw it away for her."
>Internally, you think that the fact that Fauna contacted Sana specifically in order to dispose of the weird milk probably meant that it was *very* dangerous. But you're not sure how to bring that up to her.
>"When she told you to get rid of it, she probably wanted you to *destroy* it," Kronii clarifies, saving you from having to say it yourself.
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