(chapter originally by Misayaka at writing.com)
As tempting as it was, the stalker still didn't want to chance pushing her luck... but with Mitsuru acting so unusually, and adorably!, bashful, she just had to reciprocate a little. She relaxed her breathing to help her face develop a hint of warm color, a very effective tactic, before she daintily adjusted her posture to keep her legs closer together, and settle her skirt between her hips.
"It's alright, it's not like it's your fault... or that I'm not wearing any..." The stalker lowered her voice to a withdrawn whisper that she was sure would draw a more bashful reaction out of her concealed elder.
Oh, she was not disappointed. The stalker could have melted from the sight of Mitsuru's intense blushing. This day could not get any better.
"I, I... of course, it's good that you are... wearing those. It would be... awkward otherwise..." Mitsuru trailed off, and was reduced to practically curling up in a defensive posture as the stalker just smiled all the more.
This was too good. The stalker had to see how far this could go. She decided to...
