A small pain—as if something was pressed into the skin for an extended period of time. This pressure is what she woke up to against her forehead.
Through her lashes she saw the houses across the road. Faint raindrops hit the already wet pavement whilst she came to. She wiped down the fogged-up window with a palm.
Rubbing her forehead, she glanced around the room. 'I fell asleep.' She stretched down from the windowsill and checked the clock. 'Eight forty-five.'
_
"Heat," Fumeko casted. The lidless teapot bubbled, and in the next moment tea was being poured into the cup before her. 'It worked? It took me seven times, but it worked!?'
Hotaru took a sip, "…This is." She took another sip and her ears flickered. A satisfied hum she made.
"Tis done to perfection," Tiffany complemented.
Fumeko furrowed her brows and tested it out herself. '…Just tastes like tea to me.' "It's good?"
"I don't think any stove can achieve this," Hotaru's tail swayed.
