Portraits Are Good for Memories

Awkward, awkward.

Pastel held the wine glass with both hands and took a sip.

Sip, sip.

As she glanced at the seat across from her, Dad sat with a dry expression, conversing with the Demon.

When the Demon said this and that about why he was living like this, Dad would casually change the subject like a friend. Even though he was a Former Romantic Rival, they were indeed friends, so the atmosphere was somewhat as expected.

Eue.

Pastel carefully stuck her tongue into the wine glass. Her pink tongue lap-lapped at the grape juice pretending to be wine.

The Demon was glancing Sideways, and even while talking to Dad, he tapped her leg under the table. It was a gesture telling her not to just sit there, but to try talking to Dad or do something.

Uwaa.

I know, I know...