Terry Bogard

You can’t compare that with a gun.

Let’s compare guns, I’ll win.

“You knew to correct yourself.” wafting a fan across her pristine canvas, exiling the heavy air and the sun’s lingering heat. “Now, that drink, in-law.”

Chocolate orbs rolled, delicate shoulders lifting in quiet exasperation. “Men.” A soft click of the tongue. “Does courtesy not exist among your kind anymore?” The jest was sweet on the surface, though a sliver of truth glinted beneath her honeyed voice.

Amusement crinkled the ninja’s linen-pale complexion, rosebud lips laying siege to a smile touched with mischief. “It is better to reap every benefit I can get, no?”

“As they should be. I am, after all, your future sister-in-law!”