She asked me for some. [ A faint smile as she tucks it carefully away in the fridge. ] So now who's going to take the blame...?

[ She's prepared, you know. With the tiramisu taken care of, she beelines for the mug on the counter, smiling just a little when she sees which one it is. Picking it up, she'll curl her palms around it and press the rim to her lips, taking a long moment to just breathe in the steam and the comforting scent of tea. ]

... sorry for freaking out, earlier. I just... [ She shakes her head, strands of her ponytail shifting across her shoulders. ] I hate feeling used.

[ with unusual, if quiet, venom. ]