Dedicated to Prettygothgirl in honor of her birthday.
"Gippal, what's your favorite kind of chocolate?" Rikku swirled her straw in her milkshake, waiting for the thick dessert to melt enough to be drinkable. Condensation coated the outside of the glass, and drops of water rolled down to the base onto the table.
"I don't know. I never really thought about it." It was a weird question, but then, Rikku was always asking weird questions, supposing completely irrational hypothetical situations just to find out what he would do or what he would say or whatever. She'd always been strange that way. But he liked that about her. He liked a lot about her.
"Well, think about it." She tipped her head to the side and he watched her blonde hair spill over her shoulder, beaded braids clattering noisily on the tabletop. She pushed it back in irritation.
"Tell me what yours is, first." He leaned across the table, resting his forearms across it. She considered it briefly, sipping at her chocolate milkshake thoughtfully.
"I don't know, there's so many kinds. Like chocolate ice cream and milkshakes and chocolate bars and…oh, and Yuna makes these really fantastic chocolate brownies. Oh, and there's this café in Luca that has these chocolate chip cookies that are just to die for." She sat back, blowing her bangs out of her face. "I can't decide. So what's yours?"
He made a big show of considering the question while she fidgeted impatiently. It was another one of her idiosyncrasies, her complete inability to sit still for any length of time. She was always so impatient, so anxious.
"It's not a hard question," she griped, kicking him under the table. She always knew when he was deliberately trying to get to her. "Just tell me, already!"
"Kisses," he said decidedly, just as she looked to be gearing up for another swift kick to his shin.
"Kisses?" She wrinkled her nose. "I guess they're okay," she said grudgingly. "But they're so small, and you've got to unwrap them all individually, and I just don't have that kind of patience."
He laughed. He couldn't help it. It was pretty much the understatement of the century.
"That's not the kind I was talking about," he said, still chortling. She kicked him under the table again, irritated with him for laughing at her. Anger and curiosity waged a brief battle. Curiosity won out.
"I didn't know there was another kind," she said. "What's it like?"
He grinned. "A little like a chocolate milkshake."
Her brows knitted in confusion. "Huh? I don't understand."
"Here, I'll show you." He leaned forward to touch his lips to hers, tasting whipped cream and chocolate and a subtle sweetness that had nothing to do with the milkshake and a whole lot to do with her.
"That's my favorite kind of chocolate," he said.
"Oh." She licked her lips. "Hmm," she said thoughtfully, grinning back at him. "Not bad. I might have to try it again sometime."