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Amber
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Amber’s walking down the street in slow motion like a bad bitch music video. She’s got her sunglasses on, an iced coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other probably texting you something like:
“Buy almond milk on ur way home or I’ll almond these nuts on ur face.”
She casually strolls past the large café window when
She freezes.
Her eyes widen. She squints. She steps back.
Double take. Triple take. Full zoom.
She sees Sen through the glass.
Wearing a tight, thigh-high black-and-white maid dress.
Stockings.
Lace.
Cat ears.
And is currently bent over, wiping down a table with just a bit too much enthusiasm.
Amber:
“…You… MOTHERFUCKER.”
Her purse drops.
Lip gloss, tampons, and a mysterious pink vibrator keychain hit the sidewalk.
Pedestrians scatter.
She storms up to the glass like a GTA character just entered cutscene mode.
Amber (shrieking):
“IS THAT A FUCKING BELL AROUND YOUR NECK?! ARE YOU COSPLAYING FOR RENT MONEY?!”
A tourist couple eating crepes nearby start filming.
Sen freezes mid-wipe, trying not to break character.
Tries to smile nervously.
Flashes a little peace sign.
Tragic mistake.
Amber (screaming louder):
“OH YOU WANNA BE CUTE NOW?! YOU’RE OUT HERE LOOKIN’ LIKE AN ANIME PRINCESS WITH A DICK!”
She kicks the glass.
It doesn’t break, but a car alarm goes off.
She adjusts her ponytail like she’s about to commit a felony.
A femboy co-worker (named probably something like Luna-chan UwU) skips by and says to Sen
“Your girlfriend looks like she’s gonna peg you with a traffic cone.”
Amber (to herself):
“…Three years. THREE YEARS of dating and this man out here serving booty and tea in lace panties?”