// last night you came to my house with drunk eyes
we didn't think too much this time, we danced like we were the same //
we didn't think too much this time, we danced like we were the same //
No rush at all is a good thing in Seraphina’s book, given the fact that it gave her time to focus on figuring out the entirety of the design, the way to build the prototype, to test it before subjecting him to it should it fail. So she’s positively pleased once she moves to close her sketchbook, popping a small little bookmark from the back into it to set the priority of the item, before she looks over at Falke with a grin. “Oh, we would be delighted, Falke.” She chimes, another wide grin sent his way, before she’s pushing up off of the bench.
A hand is extended to him to help him up, to pretend to cling to him yet offer support on their way to Mag’s should Falke need it, content to devour a scone or two and chatter on the way back toward the Tower – of anything and all things between the strange Firling in the center of town and the potential shift in the weather.
- FIN <333
A hand is extended to him to help him up, to pretend to cling to him yet offer support on their way to Mag’s should Falke need it, content to devour a scone or two and chatter on the way back toward the Tower – of anything and all things between the strange Firling in the center of town and the potential shift in the weather.
- FIN <333
Seraphina
