Dingleberry ( solo )

“Ira.”

She ignored Macht, as she firmly slapped the turkey in a disgruntled manner onto the counter. Refusing to make eye contact, she grinded her teeth together. Shoving some mints quickly into her mouth to ensure that her breath stopped reeking of alcohol, she turned away from him and attempted to bustle back into the kitchen. He, however, gripped her hand, and smirked, before pointing at the ceiling.

“That’s a dingleberry.” He said bluntly, pointing at an innocent blueberry she hung from the ceiling, in giddy delight to celebrate a lonely thanksgiving. She blinked, clearly uncertain if she comprehended what she heard.

“You have to kiss me since we are under it.” He stated, reaching for her.

“They don’t exist.” She snapped, aiming another kick onto his shin.

That was his cue to blink. “I didn’t know you were intelligent to tell otherwise.” He said, sounding insultingly shocked, as she inhaled.

Studying her shelves, she yanked open a cabinet to reveal colorful bursts of vegetables and fruits adorning the insides of the top shelf. The second comprised entirely of assortments of cheese and treats that she had tossed inside after she wailed about dieting to her 3am reflection. The third, however…

Before she could think, she felt a huge shadow cast onto her, as a pair of arms trapped her between Macht and the kitchen table. She twisted her body around, ready to lash out at him, but she inhaled once more, as the close approximately of their faces became glaringly apparent to her. He leaned closer, and her face flushed stubbornly.

“Your cooking is still as bad as ever.” He finally said, chewing on a piece of the turkey. Turning around, he approached the table and grabbed a fork while he shamelessly dug into the food. Ira exhaled.

Damn tease.