She pouts, finds the grapes, and throws one at him.
Mordred purses his lips, attempting to catch the grape with his mouth but he fails. “Throw another one?”
“Wha—oh.” Her smile is fond and bemused. “Idiot.” But she does it anyway.
She pouts, finds the grapes, and throws one at him.
Mordred purses his lips, attempting to catch the grape with his mouth but he fails. “Throw another one?”
“Wha—oh.” Her smile is fond and bemused. “Idiot.” But she does it anyway.