A/N: Living with Jill must be quite the experience for Haar! This fic will be a series of silly drabbles, all just for fun (because torturing Haar is unfortunately so entertaining!) Many thanks must go to Improvisation, my partner in crime in the new movement to flood FFN with Haar/Jill. We came up all these ideas together in one of many long Haar/Jill talks! I hope you enjoy. More to come soon!
As for setting, assume all of these are post-RD unless otherwise stated. I don't see them as modern AUs either. But hey. Stuff like that doesn't really matter in these drabbles anyway!
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize in this chapter and all future chapters belongs to Nintendo, not me.
She held the strawberry gingerly between two fingers and took very small, delicate bites. Her lips seemed to kiss the soft red flesh of the fruit, its pale pink juice dyeing her lips bright and tantalizing. A drop of the juice escaped her tongue and trickled down her chin instead.
Haar couldn't tear his eyes from the sight. But curse it all, he should not – no, he could not think of her lips like that -
His knuckles were white with the force of his grip on the arms of his chair, forcibly restraining himself from jumping across the table and kissing the pink right off her lips, tasting the sweet juice on her skin, filling her mouth with his tongue rather than that damn strawberry –
"Stop it!" he told himself fiercely; he would not allow his subconscious to wander in that direction –
"Huh?" Jill glanced up at him, the strawberry halfway to her slightly open mouth. Even her tongue was dyed a deeper red.
"That was out loud, wasn't it?" Haar muttered under his breath, taking care to ensure that this time, the words he said in his head really were in his head. Curse it all, curse it all, curse it all…
She had to be teasing him. Surely she knew. Surely she was aware of the profound effect she was having on him, and did it with conscious purpose, not to seduce, but just to annoy… But her eyes were so wide and clear. It was all too obvious that she really had absolutely no idea what she did to him sometimes.
"You – you have some juice on your face," Haar said through gritted teeth.
"Oh," she said. Her tongue whipped out and caught it. "Thanks!"
Haar stared determinedly at the ceiling. Out of his periphery – she was, most inconveniently, not seated on his blind side – he saw her hold out the bowl of fresh strawberries.
"Do you want one?"