Her hands were clasped tightly around Lyle's waist, making it a bit difficult for him to breathe. Her face was pressed tightly against Lyle's abdomen, the snow-white dress revealing a smooth, luminous back. Feeling the softness pressing against him and the alcohol-fueled breath upon his face, Lyle looked at her cheeks.
"Beatrice?"
Her face was flushed with the redness of intoxication, and her expression seemed on the verge of tears, yet not a single one fell.
"Brother-in-law!" Beatrice first looked up at Lyle's bird-beak mask, then buried her head again, following which her voice revealed a crying tone.
"Wuuu, don't take my sister away! Don't compete with me for her, alright?" Just like a child crying over a beloved toy, Beatrice shattered the mystique and allure she had always held in Lyle's mind, and even seemed a bit... silly.
