Azel looked at Anya… for some reason she was feeling very cute.
'Medusa and Edna gave me a head pat fetish,' he thought with a sigh as he walked to her.
Medusa was still clinging stubbornly to his sleeve, but even that didn't stop him from reaching out.
His hand rested gently on Anya's head, fingers weaving through strands of hair that looked wiry at first glance but proved him wrong the moment he touched them.
It was softer than it looked — softer even than Medusa's silky locks, in its own way.
A subtle warmth clung to it, and the texture reminded him of snow melting between his fingers.
His brows lifted slightly, and he found himself stroking her hair longer than he intended.
Anya lowered her face, almost shy, almost expectant.
For someone who usually radiated manic energy as of late, there was nothing but a quiet trembling in her shoulders, as though she was giving him silent permission.
Azel chuckled. "Did you like it?"
She peeked up at him, cheeks tinted red.
