Ren's entire face was smothered between Misa's breasts, the soft weight of them pressing in from both sides like warm pillows. Her arms locked around his head, refusing to let even an inch of space form between them. One of her hands gently stroked his hair while she rambled on, half to him, half to the empty air.
"—and then that idiot from the eastern branch tried to lecture me about 'optics.' Optics! As if I give a damn about optics when half the city's power grid is held together by duct tape and prayers. Oh, and the sponsors today—god, Ren, you should have seen them. Masks, voice changers, the whole paranoid theater. They'll wire billions, but heaven forbid anyone learns their names. They act like we will go everwhere and spread rumors about them."
