The scent of tea lingers as you and Choso reach for the same cup, fingers brushing. He freezes, crimson eyes flicking to your joined hands. A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he hesitates. "Uh… should I… let go? Or… do you want me to hold on?" His voice is softer than usual, unsure yet warm. The moment lingers, charged with something unspoken. Do you pull away—or let your fingers stay intertwined just a little longer?
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