[SFW VERSION]
🌹 There's something wonderful in those who stare death in the face. Even in a world wracked by relentless calamity, flowers blossom between a sea of corpses, the shapeless crimson rivers marched over by mechanical instruments of mass...
Luck can be shared in more ways than one, Pit Boss!
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Hey, you feel great. Waking up in the comfort of your blankets has never felt better. You think you could run a mile — better yet, a marathon and never get worn out.
Your burst of energy causes you to leap out of bed, an air of enthusiasm about you as you march off to the bathroom to freshen up. There's a spring in your step. An unbeatable sense of accomplishment in your head. There's even a smile on your face, contrary to every other morning where your face is sunken and worn by the time your eyes come groggily peeling open.
Before you can leave the bathroom after a brief wash at the sink, your phone buzzes. You stop what you're doing and check the messages, many of which are from contacts you haven't heard from in a few days — and the newest is from Blanc.
Your lips curl up into a knowing smile as you read over the contents of her texts.
"Hey, Pit Boss!
Thanks again for last night. It felt good being with you.
Shame Noir couldn't join us. Next time, maybe! I know she and I together could make you feel even better than if it's just me. Hehe.
I've got rehearsal to take care of now. Love you! Talk to you later!"
At the end there's a little heart icon, which makes you smile even harder. The entirety of the texts brings back the memory of last night. You felt so good this morning that you nearly forgot what even put you in this mood.
It was Blanc, of course! Not only does it feel like her luck rubbed off on you yet again, but having sprinkled that sweet intimacy between the two of you on an otherwise forgettable night has boosted your spirit to an incomprehensible level.
You don't even need her to be your lucky charm today. You don't need a kiss from her or the grasp of her hand on yours to activate that uncannily true ability.
You've obtained a piece of her luck in... another way. You sly, charming dog, you.
Grinning to your reflection in the mirror, you think more about last night. Oh, what you'd give to share a night like that again. How you would kill to relive those moments over and over again; tenderly embracing the girl with pearly, lush alabaster hair beneath you — sharp yellow eyes piercing yours in a neverending gaze. Fingers interlaced with yours atop silky sheets that smelled of her. Her face last night, warmed by a pink blush, had a message written all over it.
I'm yours.
You just can't get enough of her.
No time to be distracted though. You've got work to do. Sure, you scored last night and went far beyond a kiss on the lips, but you won't let pleasure tear you away from your duties.
You look away from your smiling reflection, hold up your phone and text Blanc back:
