@hellstrcm cont. x
That is absolutely not amusement that lingers in the corners of her lips and glinting in her eyes, and Trish hopes that concern is more visible than the apparent suppressed laughter that fights to escape from her chest. Satana, always so put together with flawless hair is now looking like a very pissed off feral cat and Trish has to gloat just a little.
It does not take her long to recover from that sly comment, but it does take her a blink of an eye or two before she responds, closing the door behind Satana (and noticing how steam rises from her skin once close to her).
“Huh. How often does that pick up line work?” She shoots back, ignoring the thought that she would like to see Satana wear her tank top. “I have something that will fit you better, come on.” Down the hallway, into the bedroom - is this the first time the demon is in here? In reality at least. “Here, try it on.”
It’s absolutely not an oversized shirt with a grumpy cat on it. It’s also absolutely not a shirt that Trish has bought just earlier that week, wanting to give it to Satana in the first place.













