“Dot, language,” Beholden scolded, laughing.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” she said, grinning wildly. “Bitch bitch bitch! You can yell at Little Motes.”
“No, she is right, my muse,” A Finger Pointing said. “Fucking bitch.”
+“Well, okay, no disputes there,” Beholden said, waving away the three glasses. “What is on your plate next, Motes?”
+She shrugged. “Well, I pinged Sarah, so we are going to meet later.”
+“Therapy!” A Finger Pointing exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “What a lovely idea.”
+“After all that?” Beholden said, smirking. “I am surprised that you have not already scheduled something.”
+“I am so dreadfully busy, Beholden. You know that.”
+“You spent yesterday afternoon lounging in the auditorium trying every kind of kettle corn you could find on the exchange.”
+She sat up straightly, staring at her partner like she was some alien creature, something too dense to understand the importance of kettle corn. “Yes. Busy.”