Moe Girl Touch Advance -

She was, in every sense of the word, moe . That indefinable quality of clumsy, heart-tugging charm that made you want to protect her, even as she held the umbrella.

They stood there, under the umbrella, not moving toward the door. Hana was still holding Yuki’s shoulder. Yuki was still leaning into her. Moe girl touch advance

“Here,” the girl said, and before Hana could protest, she had shrugged off her own dry cardigan. It was soft, pink, and smelled faintly of vanilla. She was, in every sense of the word, moe

“Hana.”

“Will you be okay getting back?” Hana asked, her voice suddenly rough. Hana was still holding Yuki’s shoulder

“Um… excuse me.”

It was a small, advance —a physical one. A step into Hana’s personal space. But it wasn’t aggressive. It was solicitous. Worried. The girl’s brow furrowed as she looked at Hana’s soaked uniform jacket.