Roy blinked as his punch was lifted out of his hand.
“I think you've had enough,” Maes said.
“What? I was drinking that!” Roy protested.
“And now you're not. You've had enough.”
“Maes! It's not spiked. It's just punch.”
“I know, but it's red.”
“So? What difference does it make if it's red, blue, or green?”
“How to put this?” He leaned closer. “It looks like lipstick. Your plump red lips are giving me inappropriate ideas.”
The rest of Roy's skin began to turn a matching shade.
“Let's go put them to good use now,” Maes purred, taking Roy's hand.