She was slightly leaned against him, worried that she will tug away the blanket. She tilted her head (which made it lean against his shoulder) as she huffed:"No. I only found cup ramen. No one makes ramen like Ichiraku, dattebane." Yes, that was a pout. Small one. And she subsided another urge to giggle and snuggle in more closely to him. Because... it felt really nice sitting like this...