𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚏𝚎

Meryl would have imagined she might have felt more cold, with her shirt pulled up. There's something to be said about the warmth pooling in her stomach, though, and the way it keeps the rest of her now bared torso from becoming chilled with the air.

At Night Sky's question, she quickly shakes her head. Pulling back just slightly, she glances up through her lashes with an almost dangerous glare.

"You better not, Sky." Her lip juts out in a pout.