Abigaille was about to burst out, eyes sparkling with the need to share, lips parting as she leaned forward on his lap, ready to gush about who this magnificent stranger was and how they had met.
But before she could speak a word, Kafka suddenly raised his hand, cupping her face and squeezing her cheeks together with a firm grip. Her lips puckered comically, her words muffled into a silly hum.
Her eyes went wide in surprise, but before she could say anything, he spoke for her.
"Let me guess..." Kafka murmured, voice low and teasing. "That lady, she was the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. The most radiant. Like some kind of goddess who just stepped into your world."
Abigaille froze, then her eyes went round as saucers. She nodded furiously, cheeks squished under his palm, mumbling incoherently in agreement.
Kafka's smirk widened.
