Irielle was practically glued to Kana's side.
From the moment Kana had woken up that morning, the elf had latched onto her arm like a stubborn vine, refusing to let go.
At first, Kana had thought it was cute — the warmth of Irielle's body pressed against her, the faint scent of forest herbs clinging to her hair, and the way her soft cheek brushed against Kana's shoulder every time she shifted.
But after an hour of trying to make breakfast, reach for cups, or even just pour water, the "cute" had started to wear thin.
Every time Kana subtly tried to tug her arm free, Irielle's grip would tighten in an almost possessive squeeze, sending a dull ache shooting through Kana's muscles.
She winced, biting back a sigh.
Lysera, leaning against the kitchen doorway with arms folded, finally raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning on going to work today, Irielle? Or do I need to send someone to drag you there?"
