"Why are we going to their house again?" Lala whined, grumbling inside of Coco's pocket.
She had just woken up from her sleep and found Coco walking behind the two husbands, carrying two baskets of fruits and vegetables with another basket on the other hand filled with clinking jars.
Imagine her surprise when she saw the guitar case the fourth husband was hugging— she already knows who bought it and she can't help, but feel annoyed.
Sorry, Lala. Coco thought to herself, casting an apologetic glance on the fairy's way as she trailed behind the mediators who were conversing among themselves with a topic she couldn't be bothered to remember.
Clink.
Clink.
Every step she takes will result in the jars bumping into each other gently and making a sound that resonates quietly in the air.