[2] You wonder why it's so damn hard to ask him of all things, when it's so easy to ask everyone else. You set the cake down and pull at your bowtie awkwardly. < Well uh 1 got my own problem, ya see.. 1 kinda got'a win this bet and you seem nice enough so uh. You wanna.. get.. laid? > You say this with about the most awkward stare. Wow could you feel any more stupid right now.. < 1 mean it's not that 1 uh like you 1 just thought ya know maybe you're open to that kind'a... thing....
> His manners are less than charming, but you refrain from chastising him. He is Itchy, after all, and he almost seems like he wouldn't be him without his tactless -- albeit, harmless -- mannerisms.
Yes, very dramatic, indeed. But, anons have a tendency to get that way.
> You sit patiently before him while he finishes the cake, but soon you find yourself curiously raising a brow as he pushed the empty plate away and nervously fiddles with his bowtie. Whatever he's thinking of must be good. Or terrible. Still, you are intrigued either way...and then he makes his grand inquiry, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.
Do I wa-want to g-get...On a b-bet?
> You should be mad, but you know how it feels to be on the losing end of a bet. Well, challenge in your case, but the principal remains the same. And he is rather attractive...You take a breath, compose yourself to control your stuttering, and then continue.
You are indeed correct to assume I am open to such things, when I see fit. And I would hate to see you lose such a bet...
> Grinning, you reach out to gently brush your fingers against his cheek.
I guess you can say I'm not unwilling to aid you in this bet, if you get what I mean~