My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
It likely didn't come as a surprise to some that the Nightshade was a bit of a romantic, but to others it would likely not cross their minds. She nods quickly, giving his arm another squeeze, "Oh please. I'd love to see them. You know, I haven't ever been to a wedding." Not even when Phoebe was meant to get married. Her brow arches, curiosity alighting in her eyes, "Blushberries in gin? Do their affects carry over?" She knew that one could become easily flustered after indulging in the fruit, but to combine that with alcohol? The resulting concoction was surely one to be reckoned with.
A laugh bubbles out of her at his objections, bright and melodic, "Healthy? Is that what you're calling it?" Her nose wrinkles playfully as she speaks. "Whatever you say, Ronin."
She does recall. Not that they spoke about it much. Her expression softens as her thumb brushes back and forth over his skin. "I do. I'll remind you that I let you pout without a single complaint." Her smile slips back into place, a huff of breath that could be a laugh pushing past her lips. "Why thank you. I'd be inclined to agree."
A laugh bubbles out of her at his objections, bright and melodic, "Healthy? Is that what you're calling it?" Her nose wrinkles playfully as she speaks. "Whatever you say, Ronin."
She does recall. Not that they spoke about it much. Her expression softens as her thumb brushes back and forth over his skin. "I do. I'll remind you that I let you pout without a single complaint." Her smile slips back into place, a huff of breath that could be a laugh pushing past her lips. "Why thank you. I'd be inclined to agree."
Maeve
