She’s wearing Christmas socks again, these ones with reindeer … hang on, are those reindeer fucking? When I glance at her, she ducks her head, hiding a smile, and attempts to tuck her feet under her even more. “I like festive socks,” she says around a mouthful of ice cream, as though that’s explanation enough for socks featuring fucking reindeer. They’re just outlines, the style like the kind you see on sweaters, but still. Their activity is very clear. Shaking my head and biting back a grin at her semi pornographic socks,
