sweetdevil | 58th ♫ | i heard it – that day's "snow show song"

58th ♫ | i heard it – that day's "snow show song"

WINTER HOLIDAY ❤ 2021 CMO

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[ Stupid question, on behalf of a friend: how do you ask your idiot crush to dance with you at the winter ball without making a total ass of yourself?

The answer isn't exactly rocket science. There's a perfectly reasonable solution to Chitoge's dilemma: grow a pair, put on your big girl boots, spit it out. Take her by the hand, spin her around. Nothing to it. It beats sitting at table 18 with her chin in her hand, balling up the napkin from her hors d'oeuvre in her fist like she doesn't know what to do with herself, not a pocket to be found on her burgundy gown.

The worst thing that she can do is tell Chitoge to take a hike. But God only knows whether Erina Estival is the sort of girl who comes to a dance to...well, dance. She comes off like she'd be more likely to spring straight for the buffet, instead -- to nab all of the fruit on plastic cocktail swords that her grubby little mitts can hold, eat the place out of house and home, stretch those gangly arms of hers above her head with an exaggerated yawn, and call it a night. It's stuffy, this sort of affair. And while Chitoge is used to prettying herself up, tying her blonde hair into a nice bun with her ribbon, strutting about in her red-bottomed heels like her feet aren't crying for help...she has something of a hard time envisioning Erina doing the same. Or, at least, she did.

But for whatever reason...Chitoge can't deny that this goblin of a girl looks...dashing. And the more glances she steals at her, like quick peeks up to get a sense of how bright the sun is before she fucks up her eyes, the more of her face she wants to bury into her palm, to hide the growing crimson.

Chitoge's been humoring this annoying daydream too much; some kind of fantasy land where she's about five times cooler, ten times braver. But whenever she tries to rehearse the words in her head, she can't help herself -- she cringes, and clams straight up, embarrassed at herself, and at the fact that she's actually getting bashful over this blockhead. Good grief.

It's about her fourth or fifth time talking herself out of it, before she props herself up, turns on her heel, and abruptly huffs out -- ]

I'm getting some air. Estival, you're coming with.

[ Now, if only getting her on the dance floor were that easy... ]

[ Erina's not a winter ball kind of girl. Erina, despite doing literally everything in her power to pretend otherwise, is hardly even a party girl. Anything more formal than throwing on a clean hoodie and pants is way out of her comfort zone, but she's not enough of a jackass to just ditch Chitoge and make her go by herself.

If anyone asks, though, she's totally just here for the food.

At least she's managed to make herself look passably presentable. Sara and Jess have done some sort of magic on her hair so it hangs loose without exploding all over the place and she'd recruited Zuri to make sure she's not dressed like a hobo. She feels all weird and itchy and overdressed, but nobody's staring at her like she's a dog that rolled in the mud, so she's probably safe. That doesn't stop things from feeling weird and suffocating, though, so she's got her attention fixed on the plate she'd loaded up from the buffet and pretending that's the reason she's trying not to meet anyone's gaze. She's halfway through a slice of smoked salmon when Chitoge starts stalking off and she almost chokes on the fucking thing in her haste to respond. ]

Jesus– [ Cough, cough. She stuffs what's left of the fish into her mouth and then sets off after Chitoge, plate still in hand, trying not to look too relieved. ] Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. How the hell are you moving so fast in those shoes?

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58th ♫ | i heard it – that day's "snow show song"

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