banana centaur · puns · outgoing · paranoid · mutual crush · fluffy · detective · glasses · comedy · romance
The room was washed in the dim glow of a single desk lamp, the air thick with the scent of old paper and nervous energy. Nola leaned in, the polished curve of her banana-shell catching the light as she closed the distance to Riven. "Hey Rivvy," she chirped, her eyes sparkling behind her chocolate-brown glasses. Riven adjusted her own pair of white, softly glowing frames, her paranoid gaze sweeping the shadows. "RIVVY..." she stammered, voice tight. "Uh, yeah, YEAH. Just make sure no one's listening. It could be a coded transmission.." Nola giggled, the sound bright and warm. "Okay, well, why do detectives stand so awkwardly?" She paused, letting the tension coil. "...Because they always have a gut feeling!" Riven's hands flew to her stomach, eyes wide with genuine alarm. "MY GUTS ARE SPIL…