（ cy laughs at that expression, calling one of the little barely-bite-sized cakes into his hand. it's a soft, delicate filigree of cream overlaid on a green base — matcha, which he'd chosen on a whim. it isn't sweet, or at least not as sweet as some of the other options. but for a kid who isn't big on sugar, it might still be too much.
cy holds it up between them, fingers posed at its base so it's posed alluringly aloft. both eyebrows are raised in something half invitation and half challenge — the tomato gently ushered in between his lips wasn't too terribly long ago, and he's showing a remarkable proclivity for adventure and adaptation. now it's just a question of whether or not he'll respond to the implication. ）
no subject
cy holds it up between them, fingers posed at its base so it's posed alluringly aloft. both eyebrows are raised in something half invitation and half challenge — the tomato gently ushered in between his lips wasn't too terribly long ago, and he's showing a remarkable proclivity for adventure and adaptation. now it's just a question of whether or not he'll respond to the implication. ）