no bullies or bums, the chums are tens here

// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //

The feel of her softening against his hand, much of the tension released with the sigh that precedes a rather potent warning, is something that echoes into him. She'd not have been wrong to take a stand over this, but he knows in the end that doing so would have rippled some of the hurt back into her again and again, ice not unwilling to jut from any jagged end. Serious as it all is, he cannot keep the wildfire of a smirk from streaking across his features at her threats, much less the way both dads quickly try to thrust the potential of it away. It's all he can do to stop from laughing, honestly.

As her head turns, so does his, amusement sobering at the earnest words and the warm glint of affection that streaks like an afternoon sun over the seaglass of her gaze. It settles through him as real as any brush of her lips or curl of her hand, love. His mouth parts around a breath, one knocked away by the force of her assertion that she's also lucky. His smile goes crooked with it's wild response, voice resonating with awe. "The best," he agrees without hesitation.

He could have stood and looked at her the whole rest of the evening, caught up in the honey of her sentiments and the need to share his own with her, a veritable no you hang up moment. She's more sensible than he is though, and answers the beckon of the dinner, his steps shortly behind her as he settles into a chair at her side. He does lean back in towards her, voice dropping low. "I would like to hear one of those metaphors." His focus rises though with the flicker of a smile as he gets into preparing his plate, 'brows lifting expectantly to hear the tale at last.

"Well that sounds like quite the lead in for a good story," he laughs, biting at a coconut shrimp like it could be popcorn.

Kaisel

// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //