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"Maybe you'll actually listen to me now that you can't just waltz off."
"... This isn't funny, Melissa."
"It's not meant to be, Vel."
The leggy model scooped her employer up and held her against her hip like a child.
"I'm doing this for your own good, you know?"
That got an unamused laugh out of Velvette. "Oh really? And how d'you figure that?"
"When's the last time you ate? Or took a break?"
Velvette frowned. "Sometime before noon I think? Not that long ago."
"It's 5pm," retorted Melissa.
Velvette blinked with surprise. "Bloody hell. Really?"
"Yes. So c'mon. We're having tea, dolly."
Velvette narrowed her eyes. "Watch it, Melissa."
"Listen, little miss. Don't argue with me over food."
Velvette gasped when Melissa suddenly held her at arms length. Her thighs dangled loosely from her pelvis, the leg elastic temporarily tied off to keep them in place. The rest of her legs, calves, feet, and the ball joints, were resting on the drafting table along with the lower half of her left forearm and hand. She was effectively left helpless.
"You need to stop and have something, at least."
Velvette watched Melissa's ponytail twitch before it snapped at the air briefly like a pair of jaws.
She sighed. Melissa's was the first soul Velvette had obtained after arriving in Hell, had been with her from the beginning. While Vel may have been physically older, Melissa had been in Hell since the early 1960s, and offered what knowledge she had to Velvette, helping her create her Atelier, grow her name and reputation until she attracted the attention of her now-business partners. Simply put, Melissa was her ride or die, and didn't act without reason.
"Hmph. I suppose I could have a cuppa. Anything to go with it, then?"
Melissa's smile was so genuine Vel felt her wizened heart ache a little.
"I baked some quick bread last night, and brought a few slices with me, if you fancy?"
Velvette hummed. "Yeah, I think I would."