Notes: Spoilers for latest chapters.

Kanda's mouth had been hot against her palm.

She was furious with herself for the thought. Furious and overly warm.

Lenalee buried her face in her pillow, disgusted. Honestly. The world was ending and all she could think about was how Kanda's face had closed into an expression of such perfect serenity, his breath creeping down her wrist as-

Oh, God.

With a muffled squeal, she attempt to burrow even further into the covers, as if they would somehow swallow her shame. What was wrong with her? She was a professional fighter on the losing side of a war that wagered the world's entire population, and yet, here she was behaving like some love-sick little twit!

As soon as the thought entered Lenalee's mind, she was ready to slap her past self. "Love-sick?" A phrase that completely over-stated her current state of being, as well as being highly misleading!

The state of being love-sick was utterly out of the question, anyway. It was Kanda. Kanda, who was fully engaged in some undead romance she only half-understood, and also-

Also, she had grown up with him! He had probably taken a bath with her at some point!

Lenalee strained to remember suitably bath-related incidents from her past and succeeded only in conjuring an image of Kanda in a towel. The fantasy might not have been so delicious had she not had plenty of opportunities to well-acquaint herself with his torso.

Lenalee realized with some horror that her musings had meandered from childhood memories to a detailed analysis of Kanda's torso.

Oh, God.

What was wrong with her?