[ The expression on her face goes a little more relaxed at that, as if she is thinking the same thing. Fucking wizards. ]

Cheater.

[ Meanwhile, his question directs her attention down to the vaguely square-shaped, chocolate, plastic-covered lump in her hand. It is then and only then that she notices she has squeezed it a little on the bottom either in alarm at literally running into him or as some kind of unrealized, makeshift stress ball. When she looks back up, it's still just the two of them, no theme parks or geese to offer both welcome and unwelcome distractions. ]

Not technically. Darcy and I made one, and I figured I'd bring some up, because chocolate. [ Never mind her original intentions of letting it slowly turn into a stale paperweight. ] I think I smooshed it, though.

[ It's only by some grace of god that she doesn't hold it out to him to inspect, like a moron. ]