isleofavalon | [Catch-All] Reunions, Memories, & the Colour White

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[Catch-All] Reunions, Memories, & the Colour White

🧙 WHO: Aerith Gainsborough, You
⚔️️ WHAT: Catch-All for June / July
🕒 WHEN: June / July
🗺️ WHERE: Aerith's flower shop, Brocéliande, Camelot city proper, the Bay of Avalon
⚠️ WARNINGS: TBD

[01. Come for the Flowers]

[Little by little, Aerith's flower shop is getting put together. The walls are still a little barren, but contain some paintings done by local artists. Finally, it seems a little more put together.

There's no shortage of flowers on display in intricate arrangements. Planters hang from the ceiling. The scent lingering in the air is some combination of cinnamon and sweet floral notes. There's almost always a cup of tea (or something like it) at the front desk.

Aerith tries her best to keep herself busy, wandering from one end to the other, up the steps to the small loft up the stairs, back down again, making sure that everything seems to be perfect. She hums during the day to herself, overjoyed at being surrounded by some of the things that she likes most, even if she can't glean from them what she would back home.

Perhaps you've stopped in by mistake, maybe you're running errands, or you're here with the intention of finding something in particular. Either way, you're here now, and the little bell sound that chimes once you've come in signifies your entry. It's too late for you to leave now. (Aerith won't be chasing you down if you turn tail and flee.)

Whatever Aerith's in the middle of doing, she looks up from her task and eyes the door with a welcoming smile.]

Hi there! If you give me just a moment, I'll be right with you.

[02. How to Business 101]

Hm...

[Aerith holds a notebook protectively against herself as she wanders the streets of Camelot's business district. She stops every so often in the front of a store window, occasionally pokes her head in to get a good look at the wares and the design. She's doing business research to see what she can do to better her flower shop.

It's also a good excuse to get to speak with owners and others along the way and having never been one to shy away from conversation, Aerith is quite happy to exchange words in idle conversation.]

I wonder how they decided on prices. Did they just compare it to something local?

[A frown briefly crosses her features because she knows her own pricing has been pretty negotiable. But maybe flowers just don't work the same as drinks at a cafe or some of the other wares that Camelot provides.

Her feet start carrying her off to another store, her face is fixed on her notebook, where she's writing in small script her observations. She brushes up against a shoulder, or perhaps she walks headfirst into you, or maybe you simply found her in your way whilst you were trying to pass by. Either way, you are precisely one Aerith richer.]

Oops—Am I in your way? Sorry about that.

[03. Gone Fishing (Not Really)]

[She hasn't been here to visit since her original arrival. Aerith has lost track of time easily, and she knows why. She drowns in keeping herself busy and occupied. It gives her less time to think. The Bay of Avalon is a vivid recollection of how confusing it was to arrive in this new world, with the discovery that the world back home was frozen in time. It's still a little hard to wrap her mind around, but she's continued to adopt the idea that there's no sense in causing an uproar over it.

This is a thing she cannot affect, despite the otherworldly abilities that she may play host to.

It's a pleasant day, one that has her lifting an arm as she takes in what feels like a bay of water that stretches beyond what she can see.]

It's beautiful when you're not swimming out of it in the cold. Or being escorted out by turtles.

[There's a basket over one forearm, not even half full. Aerith has come all this way to see if there's any flowers that might be worth adding to the collection. Down in the water, there's occasional splashes of the fish and the welcoming organic ebb and flow of the water. Maybe one of these days she should consider going for a swim.]

Although it looks a little more serene when people aren't arriving, doesn't it?

[...She wonders if the Lady of the Lake sleeps when she's not bringing newly arrived.]

[04. Communing with Nature]

[Her fingertips splay against the rough bark and for several moments, Aerith remains still, listening to everything around her—the rustle of branches, the far off lilt of birds, and other things she cannot readily identify. For once, she's not out scouting for flowers. Rather, her visit to the forest sitting just outside of Camelot's town is for something more profound.

Aside from the occasional dreams she's had of home, of different times, of times that perhaps have not yet occurred, she hasn't felt the same since her arrival. Aerith hasn't had a way of discovering just how in touch she is with her Cetra abilities. It's not an easy thing to test either, considering the details of her 'abilities' have been complex.

Her touch moves over a subtle gash in the wood and after a moment's pause above it, it takes a gentle push of healing, an encouragement for it to heal. Whether it works or not, she hardly would know. Nature is more hardy than many give it credit for.]

There you are. [She says aloud, though she seems to be addressing the tree. After a beat, she turns to press her back against it before she finds her voice again.] I can't seem to hear anything, though. Even being surrounded by it all, it isn't the same. I'm not connected to you in the same way.

[She sighs, shutting her eyes as she thinks about where to go next. What to do. She's not seen anyone else hunting or searching for any of the ingredients that grow in the veil of trees just yet. But it doesn't mean they aren't there.]

So... what do you think we should do now, hmm?

[05. Wild Card]

[For everything else. If you'd like a closed starter, please let me know. You can PM Aerith's journal or PP me at ofthesky.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A bit, yes! Some of the technology. They have holographic screens and lots of artificial lighting, sun lamps that can imitate the real sun, and... a lot of scientific advancements, too.

[She thinks of SOLDIER. Inevitably, she thinks of Hojo, too. And for the flicker of a moment, she grows quiet. Home is not all proverbial sunshine and rainbows. There's a whole world outside of Midgar that a part of her knows she's been in and can't fully remember. It's glimpses here and there. Just like her dreams and things she shouldn't know, but does anyway.

She's oblivious to whatever he might be thinking, and when he speaks up again, she finds her chin lifting to eye him.]

I can't claim that I came to do anything profound. I just came to look around, cheer people in the different tournaments, maybe buy some things if I find any that I actually like. And you know, talk with people and bother them until they get tired of me. Kind of like this right now with you.

[She grins, very proud of herself.]

You would have to talk an awful lot to make me tired of you— though I suppose I should take care in saying so, knowing how you love a challenge.

[He is absolutely teasing her, and that fond smile becomes something more brazen, a knowing smirk as he recalls just how much she seems to enjoy seeing how she can get a rise out of someone. She's already managed it with him a time or two, short-lived though it may have been before he swiftly turned on his heel and retaliated, but he really ought to remind himself to take care with what he says around her. She doesn't miss a thing— or an opportunity.]

Would it not be simpler to say you were looking for company, hm?

[Of course, that proud grin of hers means there's not a bit of shame felt, brazen in her own right.]

Then again, perhaps that's a little too straightforward a statement for either of us.

More than I already do? [That's some food for thought. Aerith's already certain she does a lot of talking as it is. She's not sure she could even do more unless she simply never stopped to take a breath or something like that.] Challenge, indeed. I might have to think on that one, though. I'm not sure I can be anymore deliberately annoying than I am right now.

[Before she gets further along that line of thought, however, what he says catches her. Both things, actually. Company is not a hard thing for her to find or to make, considering she often is the one making herself company to others—whether they want it or not. But she can definitely see it being very much the case that Balthier probably doesn't just put his company on a silver platter and offer it up to just anyone.

If he does it at all. Aerith is going to go out on a limb and guess that the man probably likes his solitude a good deal of the time.]

I don't know. I'm pretty straightforward. What do I have to lose, after all? If I want company, I just come get it. Kind of like what I did with you. Buuuuuuuut—I'm not hearing you complaining.

[Affectionately, she squeezes his arm.] Although I guess there was a part of me hoping I'd find you here.

Oh, no complaints to be made.

[Which is more honest than he's used to being with himself, let alone others, and the warmth of the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips is absolutely genuine. In fact:]

I might even go so far as to say that I was hoping the same.

[Because, if he's to continue being honest, he doesn't have a great many people he would consider friends here. Acquaintances, certainly, and some well on their way to being good friends, but he has always and ever been hesitant to connect with others— it was just easier that way, when you were always on the move, intent on always running.

Life was different now, perhaps, but old habits could take a long while to break.]

I couldn't imagine you would allow yourself to miss such an occasion— running into you almost seemed a certainty.

["I might even go so far as to say that I was hoping the same."

Aerith watches him for several moments, wondering if he's kidding with her as he is sometimes wont to do. Perhaps not, though. There's something in his smile that implies otherwise. If she's reading him right at all. Aerith is not an expert at reading him, after all.

Even though she can't figure it out, his smile is contagious and it doesn't take long for her to mirror his expression right back at him.]

You're right. I wouldn't. I love coming to these kinds of things. Everyone's so happy and I like seeing that. It gives everyone a chance to let things go a bit. We all need it from time to time, even those of us who would claim otherwise.

Is there much of this where you come from?

[The question escapes him before he has the chance to give it much thought, an honest expression of innocent curiosity, which is momentarily jarring for someone who always takes such care with what they say.]

The widespread merrymaking, I should say. There are festivals and street fairs abound in Ivalice, but they vary depending on where one goes. In some kingdoms, the year-round bazaar isn't so far off from these very stalls, I suppose.

[Despite being under occupation, Rabanastre was a lively sort of city. He was not Dalmascan, but he cared for enough people who were that he had become quite invested in their capital and the way of things there.]

Mmmnope.

[She's trying to remember if Midgar has... ever had something quite like Camelot's tourney misadventures. Wall Market is almost like a constant ever party, but that's not really quite the same. There's also the idea of the underground coliseum, but that's not...

No. Aerith decides firmly that what she and Balthier are taking in the sights for is not at all like what home offers to her. And 'offer' might be a nice way of saying it. Maybe actually having some festivities wouldn't be a bad thing, but how would she even begin to put something like that together?]

The closest thing I can think of is Wall Market in Sector Six. It's really what it sounds like—a big giant market. Lit up. Always busy. It has all kinds of stuff and all kinds of people. Shops, the Honeybee Inn, the Colosseum, there's a gym, and on and on and on. It's a lot to see and a lot to take in. It's not exactly the same as this, but pretty similar. Only place in the Slums that I think has something like it, though. But to be fair, I guess Sector Five has lots of shops and places to eat, too, but I don't think it can compare to this here.

Sounds lively, to say the least— the sort of place where one can get into all sorts of trouble, I imagine.

[Said with a note of interest in his voice, of course, because the idea of trouble has never been a deterrent for him, and anything he ever says otherwise is entirely performative.

Though he does keep an eye on some of the stalls as they pass, their pace has become slow, steady and comfortable, and he finds himself far more interested in the conversation than any wares that might be up for sale. Except—]

'Honeybee' sounds like a strange name for an inn. I gather it's not a place for weary travelers to rest their bones?

[He wrinkles his nose slightly, crooked smile still in place.]

Definitely trouble available for those who want it.

[Or those who don't and get it anyway. Or those who might not necessarily want it, but are amazing at getting involved. So, in short, people like Aerith. Often, if she's getting into trouble, it's purely because she thinks it's worth it.

Not unlike him, Aerith is a little more interested in talking with him than shopping. Easily, that happens, it seems. It's not the first time she's gotten distracted simply by being in his company. It's not a bad distraction, either. She can think of far worse things to be distracted by.

He asks about the Honeybee Inn and she looks up to him, mirroring the crinkle of his nose and the curve hooked into the side of his mouth.]

Hmmm! It's not actually an inn. That's observant of you. It's a nightclub. [A pause.] Members only. There's musical performances and a massage room, I think? Not sure that's what it was. I didn't go into the other rooms. And the girls that work there dress like honeybees!

[Sexy honeybees. Let's just call it what it is. A seedy nightclub.]

[He doesn't doubt for a moment that she's found her share of trouble there, even without having to ask as much. She clearly speaks from enough experience that she's spent some time there— and he can only imagine what a single evening in such a place would be like.

Not unlike a visit to a certain district of Rozarria, he's guessing, from the way she describes it.]

Interesting concept. Why bees? No, scratch that, I doubt there is any answer that would make sense enough.

[Members only. He knows exactly what sort of club that is, and if it's what he thinks, he's fairly certain humes in any world will find a way to make dressing like any given creature alluring, given enough time, opportunity, and a touch of creativity.

Also, to clarify:]

I highly doubt it was a massage room. Now, I have to wonder, what brought you to such a place? You hardly seem the sort.

[His interest, however, is definitely piqued, if the renewed quirk of his smile is anything to go by.]

[Aerith laughs, realising that she's not even sure why it's bees either. Yes, there's a certain sex appeal there, which might be a little lost on her, but she actually thinks the outfits are kind of cute. Maybe the bee butts, anyway. Bee butts are pretty cute.

There's just a subtle shade of colour when he makes mention of the massage room. Well, what she thought was one and probably wasn't. It's evident that she wasn't curious enough to actually ask. Or to share much more about it. Hard to share something when she doesn't have information about it.

As for the rest—]

Oh, well. It was kind of a roundabout thing. See— [Aerith says all of this in a very animated fashion, lifting her free arm to gesture, though there doesn't seem to be much of a point in what she's gesturing to or at.] We—Cloud and I—were trying to get into this mansion that our friend, Tifa, was at and the only way we could get in was to be recommended in by the guy who owns the inn. I guess you could say we were kind of trying to butter him up? We thought she was in danger— [She was.] —and we wanted to help.

[She takes a moment to breathe and then grins.] Well, I wanted to help and I kind of forced Cloud to come along. [Because if she remembers correctly, they were definitely supposed to be headed somewhere else and it was only because they saw Tifa that their plans changed.]

[Though he doesn't circle back around to the massage room, he does take note of the way she glosses over it and the way her cheeks color. It's not the first time he's seen her blush, and he's certainly seen plenty of young women— and not a few young men— do similarly in his presence over the years, but there's something particularly endearing about the way she turns just slightly pink and barrels onward with her story.

A worldly young lady by many measures, but perhaps not so worldly as she would have people believe. All the better, he thinks. There are some things many people could do well to go without seeing.]

Quite a tale.

[Even stripped down to its bare bones— consider him quite interested. His smile pulls higher on one side, amusement plain now.]

So it was all in the name of thrilling heroics, then. Making your way through a house of ill-repute, going undercover... sounds like quite an adventure, if you ask me.

[It sounds like something he and Fran might do, in fact.]

[She grins broadly, thankful that he doesn't press her for more. Even if he had, she doubts she would have had a proper response. Aerith won't call herself shy, but if she starts claiming she's particularly worldly or experienced, that may not be necessarily true. There's plenty she hasn't seen. Plenty she hasn't lived.

Sometimes... it can be easy to feel that she wants to rush into all of this with glimpses and dreams prodding her the way that they do.]

I like adventure! That's not such a bad thing, is it. I try to not get into too much danger, but I think life should be about living. I can't be afraid of trying things. I don't want to miss out on anything. So if you're ever headed on an adventure, I want to go, too!

Far be it from me to call adventure a bad thing. I did make it my profession, if you'll recall.

[Insomuch as piracy is a profession— but in Ivalice, sky pirates are rather more about thrill and adventure than treasure alone. There's a reason so many children look to his kind with wonder in their eyes, talk excitedly amongst themselves about the day they'll get to fly free and see the furthest corners of the world.]

In any case, you're quite right. A life spent idle is no life at all, if you ask me. Dull and terribly wasteful, and you are neither. I'll certainly keep that request in mind— I don't intend to stay put forever, and without Fran here, I'll need a partner.

[There's a distinct complimentary tone he uses when he confirms that Aerith can't be considered the opposite of adventurous. She preens. Aerith doesn't need the reassurance, but she isn't immune to an ego boost either.]

Fran's your partner back home? [She eyes Balthier, imploring and patient, an undying curiosity in her gaze. She loves hearing more about him when he feels as if he can share it.] For some reason, I always thought you preferred to work alone, but I guess even a pirate can get a little lonely. Everyone needs someone, after all. Life is meant to be shared with others.

I suppose I do seem the sort, don't I?

[He knows exactly how much effort he puts into keeping himself isolated— to a certain degree. Never sharing too much, only enough to pique interest and add to the persona that he chooses to present, keeping all else under lock and key.]

Even the most talented sky pirate needs a partner. Brilliant or otherwise, one can't do everything alone— and it's simply more fun with a partner-in-crime.

[They never say it openly, how much they depend on one another, but Fran is far more than a partner to him. Theirs is not an alliance of convenience; they're family, first and foremost.]

Not to mention, the sky is far too great to keep to oneself, and it takes the both of us to keep the Strahl at her best.

[Aerith easily brightens up simply by listening to him. She agrees with every bit of it. Things are more fun with a partner. And no, no one can do everything alone.

She isn't sure what it is, but there's something else in his tone. Maybe. Or it's simply her trying to dig for something that isn't there. Either way, it's heartwarming to hear that Balthier has someone that he feels so strongly about. It's telling. She eyes him appreciatively with a nod.]

I'm very happy to hear it. This Fran must be pretty incredible, because you aren't the type to be free with your praises. I hope you won't have to be here too long, in that case. I'm sure you're not having any trouble making friends here, but honestly, no matter how well some of us might adjust to things here, it's not home and it shouldn't be considered a substitute for it either...

[But even as she's saying it, she knows she has to treat it like so. Because it's the closest she can get. Temporary or not, it's something precious to her. Every moment is precious, not just with Balthier, but with everyone.]

She's quite something, that's for certain.

[There are many things Balthier is inclined to be tight-lipped about, but praise for his partner has never been one of them. He has always and ever been grateful for her, which he feels is something more than he can say for her biological family— unfair of him, perhaps, given the difference in culture, but he can't help harboring some bitterness about their refusal to understand her desires. It's entirely possible there's a bit of projecting involved— but he'll never tell.

He gives Aerith's remarks concerning this place not being a substitute some thought for a moment before he says anything more, his hand idly coming to rest atop hers against his forearm as they take a turn towards another group of stalls.

If he's going to escort her, after all, he may as well do it right.]

It's not home, no— but it may as well be, in the interim. If what we've been told is to be believed, we won't have homes any longer unless we give this world the aid it needs. Rather a tall order, but the stakes are compelling. Also, divided as I may feel on the subject as a whole, there is something quite appealing about an entirely new world to learn the ins and outs of.

[He's been enjoying a fair amount of that, already.]

Besides, the company is quite good. I can't say I'm sorry for the reprieve from war, either.

['Quite something' is a very complimentary way to describe someone, Aerith decides. It means he either doesn't want to go into more detail or that it's complex enough that he's not able to.

She studies him for some moments longer as if with her gaze alone she can withdraw something more out of him without asking. She isn't able to, however. Before she can prod him for anything more in her very Aerith way, the contact of his hand settling atop hers coaxes her gaze to drop.

That births the smallest little flutter along the small of her back. Another moment where she wonders why she reacts as she does. Aerith's not shy about contact at all, so... maybe it's because it comes from him specifically? Or maybe it's because outside of Tifa, it's not like anyone else in Camelot has even touched her hand outside from accidental touches here and there. She's always the one doing that instead...

Her focus centres right back onto his words, however.]

I guess... you have a point, yeah. I try to remember that there's a firm distinction between what is home and what isn't. Mostly because it could be dangerous to get too attached to one thing over the other.

[She seems to be saying that more for her benefit than for his, though.] You're not really wrong, though. I'm grateful to be here. I'm grateful for the time I've been given. [It's the closest she can come to admitting that she knows she doesn't have much time left. Saying it... doesn't make any of it easier. She's optimistic, but... is that all a front? Is a part of her resigned? Aerith's feelings on all of it are complicated at best.]

[It is an occupational hazard, perhaps— or maybe simply part of being himself— to always be listening for what isn't said as much as what is. He has spent the last handful of years being deliberately elusive, obscuring his true meaning and leaving little more than hints for those who were perceptive enough to find them, should they care to, and as a result, he finds himself looking for that same tendency in others, whether he means to or not.

He doesn't have to look terribly hard to read between the lines on this one, however. It's not just what she says, but a faint note in her voice that strikes him as odd, and for a moment he says nothing at all, only looks down at her and considers for a moment as he slows their pace a bit.

Dangerous to get attached— a feeling he knows too well, but there's something else hidden away there, something unlike his own reasons for such caution. Through it all, her words don't seem particularly directed at him.

He inclines his head ever-so-slightly, curious.]

Pressing matters at home?

[He's taken care not to ask anything too personal about where she's from, and he continues to choose his words with care now.]

You speak as though time here is borrowed.

[It's not his pace that really registers to her. It's the question. What leads to it are the same thoughts she's often swallowed by in her solitude. For all of Aerith's bubbly personality, for all that she seems to surround herself with others, she doesn't doubt for a moment that when she's alone, she may be a little more real. The woman she portrays herself as in front of those around her isn't any less genuine, but there is a bit of a role that she plays. A strength she must be for the sake of those who might not be able to carry that strength.

Even she, however, is not infallible.

Instead of answering him right away, she considers not addressing him at all. For just the hint of a moment, something fleeting and subtle, her hand atop his arm, beneath the light touch of his hand, tenses. Clutches. For just a breath and then it's gone, as if that moment's tightness was never there to begin with.]

In a way, all of us have borrowed time here. True, that we might not have a 'home' to return to, but let's say we accomplish all we're meant to here, then that does mean our time here is a fleeting one.

[Doesn't matter where she goes. Camelot. Midgar. Aerith's time is fleeting in both places. When she begins to think of it like that, the weight of reality sitting upon her chest becomes heavy. Sometimes, she wonders if she'll eventually break beneath it. Somehow, she's still standing, still pressing ever onward. For others more than for herself. ...It seems as if so much of what she does is for others.

Eventually and slowly, her gaze eventually makes way back up to him and for several long moments, she studies him reverently as if she has many things she wishes she could say. Words that lock up before she can even release them. Her expression softens in mere breaths.]

So yes. My time here is borrowed. The same as it is where I come from. Every moment is an important one, so I want to spend every moment I can living. It's all precious. I want to treasure all of it.

Edited (oops it is his hand atop hers not his arm) 2021-09-10 06:32 (UTC)

[For all that's being said, there's a great deal more that isn't. He listens carefully any hint of the truth in between it all, meeting her gaze when she turns it upwards to study him.

Whatever it is she wants to say, it would seem she finds she cannot, and that's a familiar feeling to him, as well— one he's experienced as well as witnessed in others.]

Make the most of the time we have, no matter where you are. I can't say I disagree with that approach in the least.

[Nor can he say that he's entirely convinced that's the full truth of the matter, but that doesn't make it any less valid. He smiles in turn, a softer expression than the sharp smirk he so often has to offer, and gives her hand just the faintest squeeze with his own— so brief that one might miss it if they weren't paying attention.]

Life is certainly meant to be lived— and it's rare that anything of value comes to those who wait, rather than take matters into their own hands.

[He knows a little bit about that. He'd nearly met his own end— that he hadn't was nothing short of a miracle— and if he was being honest, there were a great many regrets that would have met it along with him.]

Having no regrets when time does run out is a worthy goal.

[He must know. When he puts his attention onto her, she feels like that's inevitable. Balthier is not only a clever man, but also incredibly intuitive. Observant. He's obviously experienced a great deal more of the world than she has. She knows he's not an idiot. Aerith wonders if she's ever underestimated him. She's not certain she has.

Whatever he may be thinking, he doesn't pry into her. At least, not in a transparent way. Not in one that she can detect. For that, she's grateful.]

Sounds like you understand. [As much as she's willing to let him understand, anyway.] I've been called reckless, and I am. A little bit. Maybe too excitable sometimes. Too willing to get myself in danger. [Aerith shakes her head at him slowly.]

I'm just doing what I think is the right thing to do. I'm doing what I feel is right for me. There's no other way for me to put that. Part of the whole enrichening life thing. But I feel like you understand that, too.

[She smiles then, tipping up her chin to eye the sky.]

I can't wait to be up there. Even if it's just for a little bit, I want to see how everything looks.

[He cannot draw any firm conclusions without further details, reading between the lines as he is, but it's enough. What she says, and what she doesn't say, paint a vague and shapeless picture of the situation from home, but the sentiment behind it is plain. Recognizable to him, familiar for all their differences.]

I suppose I do.

[It was part of why he'd chosen the life he had, wasn't it? To live life to the fullest, to never let himself be weighed down by regrets— at least, that's what he'd always told himself. It had never really been the case, in intention or execution.

What he pursued in theory, Aerith actually practiced.]

You're being true to yourself. [It's a remarkably small number of words, for him, but he feels it sums up her own quite well, and it's similar to the remarks he'd made concerning her approach to business.] None could fault you for that. Many who would do the same have tried and failed— myself included, at times.

[He's willing to admit that much now, at least.

He follows her gaze upwards, smiling fondly.]

If I have my way, you'll have the chance before long. I'll never be content to keep my feet on the ground, and I do believe I made you a promise.

["You're being true to herself."

Those are words that she can appreciate. They embody her from head to toe. When she really thinks about them, she understands that it's easier to use words than to back them up with actions. She's been fortunate in many ways. Without a doubt, she suspects people like Balthier—real adventurers—can't always have the luxury of pursuing that kind of freedom, even if they desire it so adamantly.

When he continues, her attention turns back onto him. Her grand smile is back.]

I guess you did, yes. I wasn't sure you'd remembered or not. I wasn't going to force it on you, after all. Honestly, I was more interested the moment you sounded so impassioned about it. It was something you really wanted, so I wanted it for you.

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I'm so happy this thread features talk of bee butts

How could I resist...

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