Pencil thin fingers twist the pink ribbons that twine the hair with surprising strength that belies the thin frame of their owner, as mouths move against each other with soft brushes like gentle breezes , leaving a wake of kisses across the other's body.
The fingers seem fascinated by the ribbons, playing, almost guiltily, with them, twining them round and round pale skin, binding tight like moonlit bedroom promises.
Eyes open questioningly, nervous amusement lacing the voice.
"... I thought you hated when I end up like this..."
Caught with her fingers deep in Hayate's ribbons, Hinagiku has the grace to blush.