"Can't I be clingy, my Little Husband?" Fenrir asked, her eyes wide and innocent, like a child begging for attention. Her puppy-dog expression rendered Petne momentarily speechless.
"Just a few minutes ago, you were all 'don't touch me,' and now you're acting like 'oh, you're the only one for me.' It doesn't make any sense to me! Care to explain?" he half-snarled, his confusion mixed with irritation.
"Little Husband, don't make such a fake expression. I know you can't stay angry with me over something so trivial. As for the explanation..." Fenrir held her chin, looking thoughtful. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and so did Petne's, thinking she might reveal the secret they had been discussing.
"I'm in my P—" Petne quickly covered her mouth with his palm, realizing too late that his hope was misplaced.
"I guess that was a mistake on my part. Off you go!" With a dismissive wave of his hand, he shooed both Fenrir and the other woman out of the room.
