Chapter Text
Sprout couldn’t help where his mind went to.
While his arms moved to finish the flourishes on some cupcakes, his thoughts veered in one direction more often than not. It was a constant occurrence, even ending up in some burnt sweets more than once.
One toon stole his focus, even when her bluntness bordered on rude, to the point where sometimes he couldn’t even stand her.
Vee.
That stupid, outdated, pretty TV.
He felt like an idiot for having a crush on her. And such a big one, at that. The strawberry could barely do anything with her, lest his gaze veer to herfoor longer than usual. She was the center of his attention, when nothing else presently was.
Sprout set the cupcakes up on a layered tray, made for some event or else he wasn’t privy to. They all were designed after the toons — a Poppy here, a Connie there — the top tiers were relegated to the main 6 toons; Dandy, Pebble, Sprout, Shelly, Astro and…
He lingered on holding the Vee one, his craftsmanship perfect, as always. The icing was a vibrant green, topped with little black and white sprinkle beads, a decoration made to look like the TV toon the cupcake was based off of.
His staring was cut off, though, with a sharp—
“Sprout,” Cosmo’s voice was thin, and the strawberry practically felt smaller under his gaze, even if he had a hefty height gap on the sweet.
“Sorry, sorry,” He muttered, placing the cupcake among the rest. It finished off the piece, and it looked rather pretty. Silently, he praised himself for it, tail wagging softly behind him.
The cake roll softened, though his annoyance still displayed through his voice, “I get you like her, but we’re on a deadline here,” A pause, and then continued, mumbling, “…at least, I think we are.”
Sprout looked away, embarrassment flaring within his leaves, “Yeah, I know…”
Cosmo patted the taller’s back, sympathy radiating in his motions. How grateful he was to have a best friend like this, understanding the plight of his seemingly unrequited feelings.
But with his comfort, also comes some painful truths.
“You really need to just… tell her.”
“I-I can’t, she’ll—”
“You don’t know if she'll reject you, Sprout,” The cake roll was uncharacteristically stern, eyeing the main. Sprout’s flustered demeanor did him no good, blushing harder, “Even if she does… you’ll know, at least. But if she does like you…”
If she does. Only if, not definite.
“I don’t wanna ruin our relationship,” he sighed, looking back up at the cupcakes. His was right next to Vee’s, contrasting in green and red hues, tech and food.
“You won’t. I promise,” Then Cosmo hummed, thinking, “What if… I told her for you?”
He balked at that, looking at the sweet like he’d grown a second pair of arms or something.
“Huh— wh— what?” Sprout stammered, “No no no, you can’t—”
And the kitchen doors abruptly opened, revealing an eerily-cheery Dandy, the one and only star of their show. Smile wide and uncanny, as always. They looked like deers caught in headlights at his arrival.
A thought almost spread between the two bakers, whether or not he'd ever not smiled.
“Cosmo! Sprout! Hello,” his grin never dissipated as he made his way over to the duo, watching them both, “We need that tray there,” finger pointed at the cupcakes, “and Sprout, I need your help taking it back.”
“Yessir,” The strawberry sighed, pulling out a catering cart that was against the back wall. One thing he hated with the flower being the star of the show, is he had to obey him like some trained dog.
Cosmo eventually had to help put the tray on it, due to its size, even when the flower could have. The two baking toons exchanged waves goodbye, Sprout pushing the now-heavy cart out the doors.
He didn’t know how long this would take, but knowing the rainbow-colored toon… he hoped it wouldn't be too long.
He could only hope…
Days later, the kitchen was silent.
Well, mostly. A soft humming emanated out, from a lone toon. Cosmo diligently cleaning up after their preparations, delightfully in his own world. Tisha might even be proud of him.
Until he, of course, wasn’t anymore.
The door opened abruptly, for the second time that week. The lights glared down, showing Vee, TV toon and gameshow extraordinaire.
“Seedly!” That monotone voice came, and the cake roll couldn’t help the flinch that it elicited from him. She looked around, digital eyes clocking in on Cosmo, but no sign of Sprout. “Where is he, cakes?”
He looked back at her, mostly nervous, only a little annoyed, “He’s… Dandy needed him for something. They've been gone for a while.”
“Of course,” Vee’s screen flickered, if for a moment, to a scowl. It quickly returned to a business look, eyeing the sweet. “I’ll be staying until he gets back. It’s urgent.”
He just nodded, not bothering to fight the TV on this. She’d stayed in the kitchen many times at this point, whether to get the strawberry for various things, or because she needed things for her gameshow. She had many critiques for the food on her show.
Cosmo almost shivered, remembering.
But he continued cleaning, the tune not returning to his lips while the other was there. With the amount she joined them in the kitchen… well, not them. He realised she spent the most time there when the baking main was, too.
Cosmo could count the times he’d come in and saw Vee and Sprout there, with the TV doing most of the talking, and strawberry needing rescuing lest he burst from embarrassment, somehow.
The thought of telling her came to mind again, but… he respected Sprouts wishes. Even when they were a little stupid.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t ask some questions.
His nerves betrayed him slightly, when he stuttered, “V-Vee?”
“Hm?” She turned around from a poster she’d have looked over a hundred times by now.
“I have a— question,” Cosmo said, washing off his hands, “Think of it as… uh, a gameshow question. Non-personal.”
“I'm… intrigued, I guess. Where's this going?” Vee’s screen flickered while she looked at him, as if computing what in the world he could want to ask.
Better to bite the bullet now then look like a fool.
“Do you— do you like anyone?” He started, not able to meet the TVs false eyes — even if he wasn't asking for himself, “Romantically, I mean.”
She stared at him, the inquisitive look staying stuck on her screen. Cosmo almost thought he broke her, fidgeting in his spot near the industrial sinks.
Finally her screen buzzed off, stealing herself, and just as quickly turned back on, flickering to an uninterested look, “Do you… like me, cake boy?” Her voice was tentative, confused.
“Oh— no. Uh, just… curious is all,” He almost slipped who it truly was, but he thankfully kept it locked tight.
Unconvinced, she padded closer, “And why is that?” Vee’s eyes were practically slits, almost boring holes into the sweet toon while her microphone-tipped tail swished back and forth.
Lies weren’t his strong suit. He stuttered, “Um— i— i dunno, the thought j-just— came to m-mind?”
Of course, she thought. She knew. There was only one toon he’d hear care from time and time again.
Then, her eyes widened, a green-tinted blush quickly making its way onto her screen, “Is it—?”
Sprout came in cheerfully, humming, stopping swiftly in his tracks when he spotted the weird duo. Well, weird to anyone but him. Vee practically looked ready to pounce on poor Cosmo, like a predator who caught her prey.
His eyes darted between the two, landing on the TV, as they always did. He smiled, sweet and unsure, tail flicking behind him.
“Oh, hi Vee… did you need something?”
Cosmo looked back at him in fear, and Vee’s was almost akin to a death glare. She straightened herself, letting out a verifiably fake cough to clear her throat, “No. I was just… leaving.”
And by that merit, she did, almost flinching away when the strawberry reached out for her as she passed.
“Are you—”
“Leave it be, Seedly,” Vee hissed, tail barely missing his leg as it batted on her way out.
Sprout looked wounded as he watched her, then as he looked back at Cosmo. Oh boy did the cake roll feel guilty now, faced with his best friend. He didn’t mean to— to tell his secret, but the TV toon was too smart, it was part of her programming, after all.
The taller toon padded over to Cosmo, only seeing how shaken up he was.
“What happened?”
What was that.
What WAS that??
Vee was practically steaming by the time she got back to her room. She forgot all about why she needed the strawberry; her computing focused on the conversation.
First, that stupid little cake roll asks if she’s interested in anybody, horrible, horrible question if you ask her, then it finally clicks in her circuits that its about— its—
Seedly. Sprout Seedly.
That infuriating baking main that cares too much, too fiercely about everyone. And apparently, about her.
Then he has the gall to show up before she could prove herself correct. That was difficult all in itself. She didn’t wanna face him with that information, not yet. There was needed processing time.
A mechanical hand went up to her face, and she could feel the fans inside of her blowing from how hot the embarrassment was, showing on her screen.
Of course she’s never thought of anyone romantically— ok maybe she had, once or twice, when she heard some other toon’s were dating. The visceral reaction she had to finding out Shrimpo and Teagan were a thing came to mind.
But, it wasn’t in any serious capacity. And here, right now, she had to think about someone finding her a viable romantic option. The absolute unthinkable.
Could she even love like them?
Her circuits truly threatened to fry from frustration.
She wasn’t built for that, but— she was more than her programming. She was… wasn’t she?
The thought of cooping herself up in here wasn't that appealing, though— she was a busy toon, the star of the show. At least, she had to be. It was almost a godsend when her head buzzed, getting a call.
“Yes?” Vee answered, tapping her screen, trying to keep her voice level and monotone.
“Vee? Dear, where are you? You’re on in 10,” The voice on the other side rang in her ears — Glisten, no doubt.
False eyes widened, remembering before the conversation with Cosmo. Right, she needed Seedly because she was short a contestant! And now she had to find someone else…
“I’ll be there,” A quick look was made in her mirror, she didn’t look too disheveled, a light dusting would do. “I got… sidetracked, that’s all.”
“Oh?” Glisten’s voice perked up, and the TV could practically hear how the mirror twinkled in delight, “Do tell me about it later, sweetheart.”
“Maybe. I’m on my way,” Her voice pointed, she hung up. Vee put her persona back together, defining smirk and all, for the second time. Maybe this day wouldn’t be half bad after all.
Her door creaked, opening, and off she was to find another ‘willing’ participant for her gameshow.
Not sparing to think about a certain strawberry toon, and how he felt about her.
Sprout swore if he did have a heart, it’d be in a million pieces by now.
She knew.
She definitely, definitely knew.
Vee was too smart not to.
It felt like the world was crumbling beneath his feet. What didn’t help was the fact they hadn’t seen each other in a few days — differing schedules, something like that — so he didn’t even know what she thought.
The thought of rejection from that stubborn toon stung in his mind, not helped with the kids tugging at his arms, and even one on his tail.
“Now now, guys—” He flinched as one jumped on his back, threatening to drag him to the floor.
“Piggyback!” She squealed, giddy laughter emanating from them all.
“Me too, me too!”
“I’m next!”
“No, I’m next!”
“KIDS!” A delightful voice rang in the lobby, and soon enough they were all rounded up in a big hug. It was Goob, here to save the strawberry from his plight.
The craft gave him a wink, as best he could with his free-roam eyes, while a plethora of giggles came from the gaggle of children.
Once let go, the happy-go-lucky toon quickly got them all in a game of hide and seek, but Sprout still ended up roped in as the hider with the insistence of the kids. Goob, of course, was the seeker.
They aren’t as bad when they weren’t at his heels.
He swiftly found a nice, quiet spot behind one of the shop counters, currently vacant. He hoped this spot wouldn't be found for a while — or found at all, really.
While he didn’t really wanna be alone, kids weren’t exactly the best company when you're freaking out.
Sprout didn’t know how long he was there for; maybe minutes, maybe an hour.
When he heard “Seedly?” from above him, his heart all burst out of his chest, and the urge to say ‘Don’t call me that’ like he usually did was bitten down swiftly.
“Vee—? Uh, yes?” The strawberry stammered, through whispers, still hoping not to get the kids’ attention.
“Why are you down there?” She rounded the corner, to get a better look at the taller toon.
“Oh, y’know, j-just playing a little game of hide-and-seek with the kids?” He pointed back towards the entrance of the shop, and the main tried to joke, hiding his worry, “You better get down or they’ll find you too!”
Vee’s false eyes veered slowly back towards the entrance, face flickering in thought about something. Sprout half expected her to just leave then and there, but she ended up silently sitting right next to him.
Thoughts escaped him, as his gaze averted hers.
In this cramped space, behind the store counter, they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. Her tail thumped softly on the floor between them, lost in her own head, barely brushing his own. His scarf felt tight, in this awkwardness.
“So,” Vee whispered, playing along with the game.
“So…?” He mimicked, with a nervous smile.
“The other day,” She continued, screen dimming, “Cosmo asked me the silliest question.”
“He— He told me,” Sprout almost choked, a tad confused. Of course she knew they shared practically everything, why was she telling him? The breath he was holding caught up to him.
This was it, wasn’t it? Rejection.
He wanted to spill, telling her sorry and just to forget about it all, but then he’d truly die of embarrassment. His hands fidgeted with his scarf, flipping the ends between his fingers, tail wrapping around his thigh.
The TV’s false eyes were a bit unfocused, as if computing what to say next. An urge to comfort her also came, hidden beneath the fact she hated physical touch, or any words of comfort for that matter. She had to be the best.
But she was right there…
“You don’t— you don’t have to talk if you don't want to, Vee,” Sprout said, cautiously and caring, “We can sit here, and wait to be found.”
“See—” She stopped, rephrasing, “Sprout. I want to— just… I have a question. If you’ll answer.” Vee almost seemed… nervous, to the strawberry.
Is it bad he found that cute?
“Of course,” He smiled more, softened, “Anything.” For you, his mind wanted to add.
Vee looked at him, his cheeks very well tinted.
Sprout almost swore he could see more green on her screen than usual, but the darkness of their hiding spot, paired with the dimness of her face, it was hard to see.
They were so close — the thought of just kissing her right-here-right-now clung to him, if he just leaned in the littlest bit forward.
He wanted to. So badly.
Fear overwhelmed the thought, thought.
“Do you—”
—actually like me?
Those last few words caught in her throat, not being spoken, in favor of the kid who was balanced on the countertop looking at the two toons.
“FOUND YOU!” He shouted, grinning ear-to-ear.
The strawberry seemed just as bewildered as she did, the softness he had for her all but vanishing.
Frustration flared in her again, being interrupted for the second time. She hated not knowing, how was she supposed to have the answers if she never was given them in the first place?
“Guess you did! Haha…” Sprout said, giving a sympathetic look back her way. His demeanor changed more as he stood up, stretching out just slightly, “Am I the last one?”
“No! I can't find the others at all!” The kid protested, slumping back on the other side of the counter.
A hand was then extended out for her, one she hesitantly took, rising to her feet as well. The thought to let go never came to her, but the baking toon gave her the courtesy.
“Let’s go find the last of them, then,” The strawberry kindly offered to him, “I bet you they’re hiding behind some cutouts.”
With a loud gasp, the kid quickly dashed off while shouting, “I HADN’T THOUGHT OF THAT!!!”
Sprout chuckled as he watched the child leave, though quickly gave a look back to her. The TV could see thoughts clicking along in his head, processing what to say.
“Later… or another day, if you have time… you can come by my room if you still wanna talk?”
“Sure,” She gave, trying not to look too disappointed. Vee realised she hated when the strawberry had to leave, and had felt it many times before.
His leaves fluffed up, smile more genuine with her than with the very things they were made to entertain, “Right! I’ll— I’ll see you then.”
“Yes, then,” Vee’s screen flicked to an unamused look, hiding herself, “Get going before they come and clobber you again.”
“Ah, yeah! Bye Vee!” Sprout yelled back as he left, waving.
Her wave was less enthusiastic, but when he was gone, all the entertainment left from her. This second time being interrupted didn’t help her temper.
Maybe she would tell Glisten what was bothering her, with how much the mirror begged her after the show the other day. The stress from her train of thought going in circles wasn’t exactly helping.
She tapped on her screen, its brightness coming back as she called. It rang once, twice…
“Mirror?” Vee voiced, once it picked up.
“Vee? To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice was silky, like fresh velvet.
“You wanted to know what held me up the other day, right?”
“OOOH, yes, yes! Tell me all about it! I must know!” The TV could almost hear his hands clap in delight on the other side.
“Then meet me backstage in 5, please.”
…
…
“What do you mean ‘you knew’?”
They were both at the meetup spot now, the vanity perched up on a box of props. She opted to pace on the hardfloor, telling him most of the details.
Leaving out the fact she was utterly panicked about this whole situation. Playing it cool.
“Vee, Vee! You can’t tell me you didn’t notice?” Glisten sighed, with all the dramaticism of a stage play. “It’s written all over his face when he looks at you.”
Embarrassment clawed at her screen, threatening to flicker a brighter green than it already was. “At me? You’re sure it’s not someone else…?” She deflected, “Like Cosmo, berry-boy loves him. Or—?”
“Only you,” He elaborated, cutting her off, “Cosmo practically has to peel his eyes off of you. It’s pretty funny to watch, sometimes.”
Vee’s tail batted the floor, a glaring ring emanating out. She didn’t notice. How could she not— Maybe, maybe it was just brushed off. Laid low as something unimportant she didn’t need to worry for.
That had to be it. Or—
The TV convinced herself it was nothing, because she thought no one could ever love her like that.
Her head raced again, like it had so many times since she’s learned this information. It honestly hurt, physically and perhaps a little emotionally, her tolerance for social interactions having all but dissipated.
If there was one thing Glisten was good for, it was noticing when she was in her head too much.
“Well!” He clapped his hands together, immediately getting her attention, “Do you, or do you not, like him back, then?”
Vee stared at him for a moment, computing on the thought, before her voice dipped down in volume. “I… I don’t know.”
Her feelings felt tangled, like a mess of wiring all tied together.
A hum came from above her, reflection shifting in the mirror toon. It highlighted her sorry state for the world to see, and she hated it. She hated all of this.
“You said he offered to talk later?” He mused.
“Yes. He did.”
“Why don’t you take him on a little… date? See how it feels?” His hands clasped together, as if showing what the two main toons could be.
A… date?
“You… you’re serious?” Vee balked at him, "Won’t that.. send mixed signals? Or something like that?”
Glisten thought on it a bit more, “Ah, well, mayyybe. But all that’s fair in love and war, hm?”
She could. She really could. Sprout gave her the perfect opportunity to ask him, alone, anyway. Vee huffed, tapping at her screen, “I guess I can think of something…”
“That’s the spirit!” He beamed, gracefully hopping down from his perch. Glisten strode behind her, exuding all of the confidence that the TV now lacked. “Tell me how it all goes! I’m excited just thinking about it!”
The TV huffed. Maybe she shouldn't have asked anything; he was being decidedly nosy.
“Depends,” Vee spoke, then that hesitation creeped up her circuitry once again, “...Thank you, for the advice.”
“Any time.”
Sprout hummed, tapping a pen on the desk before him.
Usually the toons weren’t allowed pens — save for maybe Rodger — instead being given crayons or pencils. He never knew why, but when he begged for one to write his recipes with, he was given it.
That’s where he was now: figuring out a recipe.
Plenty of failed ones lay down in the trash, having been tested in the kitchen earlier. He'd wanted to try something new for a while, but couldn’t ever get it quite right.
His thoughts veering in wild paths toward a single point didn’t help, and instead of pastries, his hands threatened to draw a certain toon.
She hadn’t come to him yesterday, or the day before. It had barely passed a week by this point of her knowing. Still no answer. Still no yes or no.
They were always busy with something or other, but the idea that she was avoiding him came to mind again and again in all those days. If she was, he utterly hated it.
Another paper ball landed itself in the trash, accompanied by his tail flicking vigorously.
He felt like he was channeling Vee herself, frustrated at the lack of answers. A low chuckle came from him at that. Comparing himself to her like that, it was almost as if they were a couple already, sharing mannerisms.
A knock came at the door, and he perked up significantly.
The sweets could wait, and he padded over, letting himself breath a bit before opening. After all, the TV wasn’t guaranteed to be his visitor.
But it was.
“Sprout,” She said, uncharacteristically.
“Vee…!” He tried not to sound too excited, and he awkwardly shuffled to the side, presenting a path into his room, “Come in—”
“No,” Vee motioned, thoughts processing in her head before she grabbed ahold of his wrist, tugging him out. “We’re going somewhere.”
He squeaked in surprise, half from the fact she was touching him and another half from being pulled along. A half-hearted attempt was made to close his door, but the TV was quicker than he was, they were already setting off.
Asking about where they were going was off the table, somehow knowing that she wouldn’t give him a straight answer. But the strawberry could catch the other toons giving them sideways glances as they rushed by.
It felt like forever before they got there, to a secluded door in the back. The words EMPLOYEES ONLY were plastered on it, along with a picture on Dandy. Thing is, he knew where these stairs went.
And when they reached the top of them, feeling the wind and smelling the grass, Sprout’s eyes widened.
They were outside.
He could see there, laying in the grass, was a picnic blanket, accompanied with a signature basket, likely borrowed from the easter props. While it wasn’t quite nighttime, it was sunset, the hues and gradients of the sky looked magnificent.
Sprout absolutely loved this.
“Vee…” He started, but it trailed off. There was a loss of words on his part, tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.
Memories of all of them — him, Vee, Shelly, Astro, Dandy and Pebble — when it was only the six of them, sitting up here and staring at the stars. Times like those were a lot simpler.
And she took him here. Alone together. Without—
Fear and worry creeped up his spine again, “Um. Won’t the handlers be mad…? We’re not exactly… allowed, up here.”
Sprout only now noticed her staring at him, fixated fluorescence in the dimming light, and the fact she hadn’t let go of his wrist in the time they were up there.
“Oh, yeah,” Vee seemed to snap back to reality, averting her gaze with nonchalance, “I talked to them beforehand. We’re fine.”
A seed of doubt lay in his mind, but he pushed it back.
“So… Do you wanna go sit down then?” He offered, motioning to the picnic blanket.
All he got was a hum of approval in response, and she finally let go of him. Where her mechanical hand was still stung with a ghost, but he followed her over, sat on opposing sides of the basket.
He wondered what was in it, given Vee couldn’t eat.
She practically read his mind when she opened it, and there were sweets in there, most likely for him. The TV laid them down, and he could tell she was nervous about something. He wondered…
Now he was the one staring, when she looked back up at him.
“Cosmo made them, if you’re worried.”
“Oh— no, I'm—” Sprout stammered, his tail lashing slightly, “It’s— I’m not worried. This is just…” Words were hard for him, like complimenting her itself was foreign, “Very… thoughtful of you, is all. I like it a lot.”
Vee was staring again, as if processing over his words, taking them in fully. She praised herself all the time, why didn’t she now?
“It’s no problem,” Her voice was stilted, as if thinking over every word as she said them.
That just made him all the more awkward, and worried, and a bunch of other things. He gave a nervous laugh, choosing to pick up something akin to a sweet cookie, trying to drown his worries in its sugar.
It was pretty good, as all things Cosmo made were. The little cake roll had to give himself some credit, and Sprout had let that be known more than once.
Then he felt a pang of guilt — even if these were made for him, he felt bad eating in front of Vee, who couldn't.
“What would you eat… if you could?” He presented, half the cookie bitten through.
“Haven’t really thought about it.” Vee gave, glancing down at the confectionery. The look in her false eyes he couldn’t quite place down. “Any recommendations, berry boy?”
Sprout almost bit at her for the nickname, but chose to take it out on the sweet in his hand, “Well, I’d definitely make you some of my famous cupcakes. You could have as many as you want.”
A look of mischief sparked on her screen, “So if I asked you to bake say — one, no, two hundred, you would?”
He almost choked, “T— Two hundred?! You couldn’t eat that many, Vee!”
All she did was laugh, whether at him or with him he didn’t know, but his flush was ever-apparent. Sprout could listen to it all day if given the chance. His cookie was finished.
“Right then, tech wiz. You ask me a question this time.” The strawberry eyed her, more with amusement than annoyance.
Once her laugh died down, he could see the cogs running in her head again. Looking for the right one, probably to get the most out of very little. That was how she worked after all, needing every shred of information she could get.
Did she want every bit of his too? Did she need to know him, like he wanted so badly to know her, deeper down past that confident persona?
“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”
“Outside of Gardenview?"
“Mhm.”
He hummed, thinking to himself. Another sweet was taken, giving himself something grounding while he did. It was hard to imagine anything outside — besides this little hill they were on, of course — so it didn’t come easy.
Of course they’ve overheard stories, or eavesdropped when the handlers didn’t notice.
“Somewhere nice, and warm, where I could sit out and… not have to think about all of… this. Just enjoy the breeze with no worries.”
He was being too open, he knew. But he wanted her to know.
She looked, and looked, and looked. There were no holes being bored into him, only the thin veil of curiosity and unease, as if the thought of him not being fine was news to her.
“That sounds nice,” Her volume was down, and the sky was starting to dim.
“Yeah,” Sprout’s tail wrapped around his leg again.
It was awkward again.
The stars twinkled overhead at them, somehow knowingly and not at all. Like they knew of his shortcomings.
She looked up at him again, giving them an out, “I’d try… try and get on one of those other gameshows. The one’s mine is based off of… if we could go explore.”
“You’d definitely win all the prizes,” He mused, smiling softly. “But yours is the best out there.”
“Hah—! Have you even seen the other shows?”
“I don’t need to,” Sprout cheekily replied, winking, “It’s hard to dispute facts, y’know?”
Vee pushed his shoulder the best she could, friendly and teasing, the strawberry all but unable to not burst out with laughter.
The banter went on, more questions, more jokes. It was only when the handlers had to come wrangle them back inside, well past their bedtime, that they stopped.
He had to admit, this was the best he felt in a while — sitting there and chatting with Vee. And not knowing why she had dragged him out there, to that special spot. But he knew it was well worth it on her end, too.
Sprout wouldn’t trade her for the world.