[Frisk snickers at the playful familiarity of it, absurdly pleased for reasons they can't fully discern. Pleased because - well, maybe because he considers them somewhat grown-up for a pair of twelve-going-on-thirteen-year-olds. Or, in Chara's case, a "twelve"-year-old.]
Flatterer, [says Frisk, sticking out their tongue, but the effect of the disparagement is immediately lost as they smirk.] You frightful old Slytherin, you.
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Flatterer, [says Frisk, sticking out their tongue, but the effect of the disparagement is immediately lost as they smirk.] You frightful old Slytherin, you.