[Face furiously red she does the only thing she can think of-- sweep the two little troublemakers off the surface of the desk and into a drawer, slamming it shut before they can protest. Which they do, their tiny voices incoherent through the wood.]
It's a curse. I'm cursed. Oh god. I'm sorry. I thought maybe only I could see them.
a spoonful of apologies in with the sugar;
It's a curse. I'm cursed. Oh god. I'm sorry. I thought maybe only I could see them.