Like a squishy dog toy, a soft wheeze escaped the clock's gullet as they were squeezed. It felt almost comfortable and soothing being held like this, as if their fathers were right here and doing it themselves. How oddly gregarious this was, how eerily charming and how quaint. And just like that, the embrace ceased to be, gracefully flowing away from Nit like a slow-flowing river. Soft, easy, like they were now.<br/><br/>Nit quietly observed as Marcus made his way to wherever he was going, perhaps home. It only made them want to go back home more than ever. But, of course, life was going to punish them further for the crimes they committed. As such, they began following Axe into the welcoming restaurant, its bright lights making their eye strain as it adjusted from darkness.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-family: courier;">Sure,</span>" they replied simply, keeping the girl close to them while protecting her stride from the careless rain. "<span style="font-family: courier;">I'll call... that yiffer up... right now.</span>" And that was the first thing they did as soon as they entered the establishment and closed "their" umbrella, fulfilling to their promise of being a reproved lover. Petty insults were tossed to the other side of the line though, so their original personality was still alive and kicking.<br/><br/>This was an ever-hungry clock here. Their ravenousness was here to stay until the day the beast finally dropped dead. Something shocking occurred when Axe went to order, however. Something drastic, something one could not have ever expected even from a monster like Nit. It was completely out of character for them, one could say.<br/><br/>Nit shook their head no. The absolute horror.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-family: courier;">Though a mocha would... be nice, if you... may. Small.</span>" Their voice was gentle, almost<span style="font-style: italic">respectful.</span>The nerve, being nice to people. What were they thinking? Was this even the real Matías Martinez? Who knew?<br/><br/>"<span style="font-family: courier;">I'm actually quite... famished myself,</span>" Nit whispered to the other as if it were not automatically established already despite them having literally eaten two pounds of meat only minutes prior. "<span style="font-family: courier;">The meat... here is trash though. <span style="font-style: italic">Esa... míerda no es... real.</span></span>" Softly, the clock snickered, their blatant rudeness making a comeback. This would hopefully be the last of it, however.