[The old joke passes between them, except Terezi is too distracted by the surge of negative feelings coming off him to respond with her usual faux-offended defense of her nose's integrity. Instead she lifts a hand to press against the side of his neck, thumb rubbing in an arc across the smooth human skin (softer than hers, which she finds consistently funny).
The other drops down from his chest until their fingers can entwine.] Come inside, pretty boy, [is all she says, giving his hand a light tug.]
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The other drops down from his chest until their fingers can entwine.] Come inside, pretty boy, [is all she says, giving his hand a light tug.]