[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

So…she really is a ghost…

oh god no wonder she said that about my ghost phone wallpaper

You fumble for words, Willow looking more and more nervous as you try and fail to get something out.

But finally, it comes.

POLKA DOT: W-wow, you’re…Willow, you’re gorgeous.
WILLOW: O-oh?
POLKA DOT: You’re adorable! You have floaty hands!
 

You reach out and take one, feeling its warmth- actual warmth too, not just perceived. You would have thought a ghost would be cold, but no, she’s just a little bit heated up, like something left in the sun.

POLKA DOT: So warm, too…
WILLOW: I don’t know why I’m not, yknow, cold…
WILLOW: Maybe it’s the fire thing? I dunno.
WILLOW: I’ve cycled through a few forms by now, but I’ve been settled on this one for the past few months.
WILLOW: You…you really like it?
POLKA DOT: I love it.
POLKA DOT: It’s really, really cute.
WILLOW: You’re too sweet…
POLKA DOT: …not as sweet as the cake you’re gonna get.
WILLOW: Hehehe…you didn’t forget in all the excitement?
POLKA DOT: Wouldn’t dream of it.
 

She floats onto the chair next to you, scooting it in close. You take her slice of cake in hand, figuring out the best way to do this.

POLKA DOT: So you just…eat the same way, right? I don’t see a mouth.
WILLOW: Same way any other toy eats, yes.
WILLOW: Just raise it to my face and I’ll take bites until it either disappears or I’m full.
POLKA DOT: Easy enough.
WILLOW: Admittedly, forks probably would make this a bit sexier…probably? It’s not like I’m an expert.
POLKA DOT: Maybe, but I like it like this.
WILLOW: Oh?
 

You hold out the miniature, keeping it close to her face without shoving it in it completely.

POLKA DOT: I get you eating out of the palm of my hand.
 

Willow’s face floods with red, but she doesn’t pull away at all, leaning in and very gently bonking her head against the cake. Even with no actual pieces taken out of it, you can sense her taking delicate bites, taking her time with every bit- the soft vanilla cake, the strawberry filling, the buttercream frosting, all delicately sculpted out of clay by some unknown force, made just for this moment shared together.

At some point, she closes her eyes, completely lost in it.

You’re just as transfixed, unable to tear your own gaze away from her, your eyes shifting from watching her blissful expression to the flickering flame on her head, moving and twisting as she eats. Every so often, her cheek brushes against your wing, and you feel that now-familiar heat build up- the intimacy of the moment making you feel a hell of a lot more than you expected over a simple slice of cake.

When the slice blinks out of existence, both of you are startled, and…from the look on Willow’s face, she shares just as much disappointment that it’s gone. Even so, her eyes are soft and warm, the ghost’s form just a little bit shakier.

WILLOW: Wow…
WILLOW: That’s…really something else.