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Summary
“Anybody can care about me, I need him to love me,” Fizz says with a determination that is only slightly lessened by the sniffle right afterwards. “I just have to keep him entertained long enough so I have enough time to convince him that loving me is a good idea.”
Asmodeus freezes. It’s the way Fizzarolli says the last part, like it’s a fact, a conviction— Like it’s something he’s proved true to himself, and it’s not just some wild idea his messy brain has jumped to in these last few months. "This is what works,” takes on a different light Oz would really rather it not.
Asmodeus loves Fizzarolli more than anything, enjoys seeing him have so much fun getting dolled up for Blitzø, but finally there’s an outfit that worries him enough to ask what’s going on in Fizz’s head.