“I-I … didn’t …” I stumbled over my words, unable to tear my eyes away from those pink lips.

“Oh, so growling ‘silence’ like you’re some sort of cartoon villain, that was just you speaking to yourself? Do you often tell yourself to be quiet?”

She poked me in the chest again. The box of donuts tilted precariously, but I managed to save it in time. Her eyes darted to it, then back up to me, blazing with indignant fury.

“You had better be feeding an entire suburb of starving orphans with those!” she snapped. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in her anger.

I tore my gaze away from the parts of her that bounced along, drawing on the devil lurking deep inside this human suit.

“Had I, now?” I smirked down at her, cocking an eyebrow jauntily. I thought I caught a tiny, amused titter from somewhere in the vicinity of my shirt collar. I ignored the wayward Hell Beast who made it.

Her eyes slipped to my mouth, and that tightness in hers melted … for just long enough to make my stomach churn. Or was that the unfamiliar treat putting up a fight against my digestive system?

And then her eyes narrowed. “Yes, because if you had no altruistic purpose … what sort of sadistic lunatic tells the donut guy to use up all his mix, no matter how many it makes?”

“Sadistic lunatic, you say?” I taunted, feeling an odd sense of unbridled glee bubbling in my throat as I slid another donut from the box. I stuffed the entire thing into my mouth. Her lips fell open again, and she watched me chew in fascinated horror.

Which was exactly the emotion that I needed her to be feeling.

“What is wrong with you?” she squeaked. My grin widened when she stomped her little foot to emphasise her words.

I shrugged. “I’m simply a good Samaritan. I did not wish for his mix to go to waste, and the market stalls were packing up for the afternoon.”

“Ugh!” Her hands darted out, clawing into the sides of the giant box, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she grunted, trying to wrestle it from me. It briefly took me by surprise, but she was far smaller and so much weaker than I.

I tightened my grip minutely and watched in amusement as she tugged and tugged and got absolutely nowhere.

“You do … realise,” she puffed, her fingers slipping against the smooth cardboard, “that they can … keep the dry mix, and use it again … next time!”

She readjusted them, tugging harder. I chuckled, cocking my head to the side.

“But then I wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation with you!”

She let out a little growl. “If this is your idea of delightful, you really are a sadist!”

“Oh, Mouse, you have no idea.” The words burst out of me, called forth by some strange urge swirling deep within me.