それはヌードルです。

         ”     It was ah— uhm—" 

   Blue hair rustles and he stares deeply at the floor trying to remember exactly what it is he wanted to say. Something about??? An argument? Something along the lines of not—

         ”     I forgot what I was gonna say,” he purses his lips for a moment. Eeeh. Toss it. How about something good. “You wanna play video games or somefin’?”

             be it the passing of a pubescent mood swing              or simply the sheer adoration she felt for the              singer, noodle feels her ill-founded agitation              starting to p a s s.              her scowl melts into the smallest of smiles.              welcoming him into her mess of a room as              she opens the door a tad wider. 

Her laugh echoed round the room they stood within and his (though rasped) giggle joined, preshow anxiety brushed from his mind like dust. It’d settle again surely and the churning in his stomach was still violent but distracted, at least. Noodle’s dressing room was better than the bathroom stalls and the cold tiles didn’t do anything for shaking limbs and unstable breaths, but her laugh did. 

                    ❛sod off noodle!                      i’ve seen you do worse.❜

           it takes a moment for the guitarist to compose herself.            a giggle occasionally slipping past pressed lips as she            jumps up from her seat. however, it isn't hard to guess            why he's decided to pay her a visit. not that she would            actually admit that to him though. it's best to help him            take his mind off his pre-show jitters.