-once hearing the punch-line, she quirks a brow and just stares with a smile of pure amusement, but only shortly after, unable to contain it, she bursts into a fit of laughter along with you as she lifts a hand to muffle it
knowing she’s probably giving off the wrong impression that the joke was actually funny, even though she’s more entertained by your own reaction to it than anything- Omo, this is one of those jokes that’s so bad, you have to laugh at the fact that the one telling it thinks it’s funny. I’m tempted to call you dry bones now, with that dry sense of humor of yours. -she teases, lowering her hand with a grin-
He would press a palm to his chest, just over his heart, bend to rest his other on his knee before righting himself after a (horrifyingly long, if he were to be utterly honest) refreshing laugh. Now, just for the pretense of exhaustion, he fanned at his face, puffed his cheeks before releasing his breath in a short exhalation– “I’m okay. It’s okay. Everything is fine.”
Upon her reaction, he scuttled closer, began to slit his eyes, continued, “That joke was golden. It was at its prime, and it will never see a day better than this one. Didn’t it leave a sweet taste in your mouth? That means it did its job.”
