[she hums sweetly while her padded fingertips trace along his scars. when she reaches near the end of them, she tugs her hand away then flings her attention to their table — the plate of food, and both of their beverages long forgotten until now. cream of her drink melted and mixed with the cookie smoothie, and his coffee, probably cooled.]
Heh, do you ever run out of goals?
[just a light jab of how her father always have something cooked up despite having one task meeting its demands.]
Action;
Heh, do you ever run out of goals?
[just a light jab of how her father always have something cooked up despite having one task meeting its demands.]