[there's... There's a lot of words coming at him that Keiwa has no idea how to respond to. It reminds him of that one time in university, where a bunch of his classmates had gotten together to hit up the local bar to try and pick up girls. Keiwa had volunteered to be the designated driver that time, winning him points with his drunk classmates but ultimately missing out on the tried and true university drinking experience.
Did he even notice anything Misfire said after 'hot date'? Who knows, it would probably be the same response either way.
He sputters, face red, shoulders hunched and hands held in front of him defensively. It takes him a few tries before he manages to string words together into coherent sentences again]
I don't... I'm not really- [he trails off, mumbling, and it seems like all that confidence he had when he first handed over those chocolates have evaporated into thin air- wait a minute. He's still mumbling, but he sounds confused rather than indignant or accusatory]
... But if that's the case, wouldn't you have been able to get yourself a date...?
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Did he even notice anything Misfire said after 'hot date'? Who knows, it would probably be the same response either way.
He sputters, face red, shoulders hunched and hands held in front of him defensively. It takes him a few tries before he manages to string words together into coherent sentences again]
I don't... I'm not really- [he trails off, mumbling, and it seems like all that confidence he had when he first handed over those chocolates have evaporated into thin air- wait a minute. He's still mumbling, but he sounds confused rather than indignant or accusatory]
... But if that's the case, wouldn't you have been able to get yourself a date...?