"I've no doubt your words are just as heartfelt." This is another of those stubborn points he refuses to see reason on. There is nothing special about his writings, save that they are a fantastic waste of time. He is well aware of that. Still... it helps him to center himself, come to terms with things as they change around him, eases some of the ache left behind by the war.

Foolish though it is, he can't quite bring himself to stop. Not for lack of trying, mind.

"I simply thought it... might help... explain a few things, I suppose." His smile is just as sheepish as hers but he steps away, uncorking the wine with practiced ease and beginning to pour two glasses, returning to sit beside her as he passes one to her.

"To... romance, I suppose?" Toast him Marianne.