She moved about the little 'apocalypse apartment' that I'd attempted to make out of this system's ability, grabbing some things she felt were necessary to leave her penthouse with. But Kyrie refused to just hand them over to me.
And because of this… mood of mine, I didn't say anything as I sat patiently on the bed letting her come to her own realization. That my bras do not currently fit as nice as they once did - not just in cup fill size but because of the engorged tissue under my armpit that makes the band very uncomfortable.
But I did feel the need to speak after she stopped actually trying to fit and just started trying to be the 'student doctor' looking at the changes. Not just looking, tracing a vein on the taut skin-
"You've learned plenty hands on, now, right? Why I can't wear that."
"Ah. Sorry. I should have known better."
That suspicious hand of hers reaches for the next item, the matching panties, and I slap my palm over the back of it.
