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She didn't want to give back the hat.

Why had she offered him back the hat? She'd whiplashed from angry, to scared, in a matter of mere seconds, and when she'd begun to trip over herself apologizing for being so needy it was all she could think of to say. And he wanted it back - he wanted to take the Supreme hat that she'd been sleeping with, on the mission with him. Of course he did. It was his hat. How the hell would he have known -

She knocked on the basement door and thought about leaving the hat on the door knocker. All she was going to do was trip over herself some more, and this just wasn't the right time for this. He needed to keep his head clear. Not worry about the obnoxious little child who kept tugging on his hand.

The moment the door opened, she reached up as if to hand him the hat. It never made it more than an inch or two upward, before he mentioned cheese puffs, and her face crunched up in frustration.

"Y.. es.." Because God help her, she did want some cheese puffs. All hopes for a quick getaway and ripping off the bandage quickly fluttered away at the thought of her fingers coated in orange.

"Yes please." She added, all but floating inside. The hat dropped back down to rest at her side, pressed hard against her hip. "Where are they?"

She beelined for the jar, took it in her arms, and unscrewed the top. "No." She huffed out, turning to look at him sourly. "Bad day. Shitty day. Nothing is going to make this day better except these cheese puffs." And then she remembered the one thing that was about to make the day worse, and slowly rose the hat up for him to take. "You should probably take this back before I start eating these. I don't want it getting dirty with cheese crumbs."

She was looking at the hat, not him, when she said it. She was talking to a hat. Goodbye, hat. You will be missed.

Her eyes flickered to his leg for a moment, narrowing with suspicion, until he pushed the hat back against her. The moment it touched her chest again, both of her hands smacked down on it, crushing it against her body. All previous thoughts were forgotten in place of that one offer.

And that was the moment Maebe began to cry.

It started as a lip wibble. This was her few seconds of bravery, a last minute attempt to not have a complete meltdown in front of him on the day before his promotion mission. Then her brow winced, her eyes squinted, and it was over. She sniffled, just once, and put down the cheese puffs in order to slam her face into his chest and use it to hide the oncoming storm.

"Thank you." A very small, very muffled voice choked out, muffled against his shirt.

She groaned, and reached up to smack his chest, clearly frustrated with his words. "Stop saying just the right thing, you absolute jerk." He was entirely unfair to her in every unintentional way, and she pushed her face away just enough to wipe her cheeks clean of tears that she would refuse to admit existed. The hat was placed firmly on her head, turned around so she could see him, and she scrunched her nose up at him.

"I wish you weren't so cute." It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn't constantly radiating some kind of magical spell that made Maebe want to be around him all the time. Maybe it was the cheese puffs. The thought reminded her, and she curled away further to flop down on the ground and stick her hand in the jar. When they came out, they were gloriously orange and filled with delicious crunchy puffed goodness that she popped in her mouth with a moan.

Yeah. Definitely the cheese puffs.

His regret was unfounded - she had pretty much assumed he was going to come back with some sort of battle scar. Few ever made it through the promotion without one; save her. Her broken jaw had never left a scar. It was the only thing she was grateful for about that day.

"Some do." She muttered as she climbed childishly into a beanbag. "Some don't. Depends on the kind of girl you're hoping to be with. I'm used to scars, myself. They're everywhere, around here. I just don't want you to lose something important." Like his eye. Or his arm. Or his--

Teeth. She corrected herself quickly enough.

Her face was too close to the cheese puff jar, and the wafting cheeziness was starting to turn the tip of her nose orange. She ignored it and continued to dive in. "If your texts work, will you text me? You don't have to. But. I mean. You'll get bored. I promise I won't send you sexts."

She was going to break that promise.

"Kind of." Only she had no real scars to speak of, when she thought about it. Nothing that said I survived that to the world. Her scars were buried down deep, where no one could see them. She went quiet, her hand finally lifting out of the jar for the last time. Her stomach churned; she'd eaten too much. She was going to be sick.

"Monochrome. It's much more dramatic." She tried to return to the light, joking air, as she pushed the jar over to him. As if to explain why she'd gotten so quiet, she rubbed her stomach and made a face. "You let me eat too much. Stop spoiling me."

Her hand lifted to run down the length of her cheek, testing it for leanness. He was right, but she liked it that way. Her jawline had never been so well presented. This was how she liked it. "I know it is. That's why my stomach feels inclined to regurgitate it right now. I don't think I can eat that much in one sitting."

She brushed her face with the back of her hand, to try and wipe the cheese residue off that she'd just lined her jaw with. Every muscle froze when he spoke next, however, because Maebe heard him say something that he clearly meant one way, and she inevitably interpreted as another. She knew by his inflection what he meant, but it was too good to pass up. Her lips thinned as she pulled them in, trying to hold back a laugh. Keep it together, Maebe. Don't bark in his face.

"You're going to stuff me with yourself?" She clarified, her voice shaking from the laughter that begged to be set free. "Why Sir Grace. Does this mean we're taking our relationship to the next level?"