[ Because there are times that Niklaus Mikaelson just can't hand a simple gift over, Cami will find a couple of items on her bed the next time she enters her room.
First will be a small painting of New Orleans, one of many he's created since arriving all those months ago. He figures she might be just as homesick as he is.
Beside that is a small box, inside a silver necklace with a pendant that is a runic symbol. Included is a small note inside:
Thought you could use a little reminder of home. As for the necklace, if you're curious as to the meaning of the symbol you know where to find me. -Klaus
After that, he returns to his room and proceeds to paint a storm, his inspiration returning to him for the first time in weeks. ]
[All things considered, Cami's had a pretty good Valentine's Day. There had been far off galaxies and elementary school arts and crafts, plus chocolate, which Cami is never going to say no to. It had been light and fun, and entirely free of the confusion that floods her mind whenever she thinks of Klaus Mikaelson lately. Because while yes, they've been intimate, and yes, there are definitely feelings there, every problematic reason they'd had for not acting on them still exists. He's still bad for her in every imaginable way. Clearly it's a good thing they didn't go the cheesy romantic route and make a date like they were actually some sort of couple rather than a pair of people who don't know what the hell they're doing.
And with enough booze and chocolate, the sting caused by said lack of date should fade away nicely.
Of course, as he so often does, Klaus derails any sort of plans Cami might make for herself the moment she steps into her room. Even before she sees the box, the painting has an unmistakable source. Putting aside her shoebox, Cami moves over to the bed, picking up the artwork first just to look at it.
It's home. New Orleans, a place that only loses the craziest city in the universe title to Wonderland itself. She smiles a little, thinking of things that have happened on the very street Klaus has depicted. It's a sweet gesture, and Cami already knows just where on her walls she wants to hang the painting.
She might have even done so then, except he's given her a second offering. While the artwork may have been from a friend, jewelry has a pretty clear and traditional message. The necklace is absolutely beautiful, even without any knowledge of the symbol's meaning. And of course, Klaus has taken care of that too, teasing her with the promise of understanding should she come to his room.
Except that offer is so much more than a simple promise to talk, and she knows it. Her fingers trace the outline of the symbol as in her head Cami makes any number of guesses to what it might mean. For as callous and cruel as Klaus can be, when he makes a gesture of good will he always seems to find the perfect form for it. Whatever this rune means, it's not just what Klaus thinks of her; it's how he views this thing that's developed between them.
Honestly, she could kick him for putting her in this position.
Well, he's going to have to wait a bit longer to tell her. This isn't a formal evening out to a gala, but Cami still wants to wear something nicer than she had to Star Wars. It's a good date night outfit, but still simple enough to Cami's eyes to make it look like she hasn't gone to too much effort. She's nearly ready to talk out the door when she takes another look at the necklace, still stunning, still safely tucked away in its box. She debates it for a second, then puts the lid back on, opting to carry the gift with her. Whether she'll wear it before the night is out depends entirely on what he has to say--and Cami would be lying if she claimed she isn't eager to hear it. One way or another, tonight may truly be the moment when she knows what's happening between them.
Shortly after, Klaus will get a knock on his door. She doesn't have a present for him, certainly not anything with the same thought and consideration he showed. But she has brought along a rich red wine, well aged, more than suitable for sharing on this particular night.
-- to voicemail. [ He makes an exasperated gesture, short and sharp, but clear none the less. Not only did it go to voicemail before it could process any of the buttons he's been pushing, it's defaulted to video. If it keeps this up, he's replacing it with a potato.
He leans back with a soft exhale.
He's sitting in a window alcove overlooking the mansion grounds, but he tilts the phone away from the window automatically. ]
Ms. O'Connell, this is Bucky Barnes. [ It's still strange to say it aloud, but it's the name that he gave her. ] I don't know if you remember me, but we spoke a couple of weeks before the Jabberwocky attacked.
[He doesn't have to wait long; Cami's pretty good about listening to her messages, particularly when she's not working a shift at the bar. All the better, since this is someone she's been waiting to hear from for some time. She's quick to find a bit of privacy so she can return the call shortly after she gets it.]
Hey! Of course I remember. [She's not likely to forget someone so desperately searching for a way to unlock his own memory.] I'm glad you called--and you can call me Cami, for the record. [Ms. O'Connell is better than Camille, but she still prefers the nickname.] How are you?
[ Damon is v drunk and v going to regret this later. ]
You said my brother isn't here, so why is my brother making a freaking appearance?
[ Sure is drinking from a mostly empty vodka bottle, and it sure didn't start out like that.
Why is he even bothering to contact her of all people - she seemed to know him well enough and however weird that was, it was still somewhat comforting. ]
Wait, what? [Something like this she'd expect to be about Klaus, but Elijah has typically taken the role of peacemaker in the family--as much of one as there ever can be, anyway. So to hear the threat, the quiet certainty with which Kol delivers it, catches Cami off guard.]
Those who knew of the dalliance are long-gone and those involved have, similarly, flown Wonderland's coop. Normally Evelyn might attempt to compartmentalise her own issues in a way most befitting an Englishwoman, but with the arrival of her husband in early December she is forced into the uncomfortable position of confronting the consequences of her choices. She cannot keep it from him; the backbone of her relationship with Rick is trust.
More than therapy Evelyn needs advice, lacking a confidante who might best comprehend her situation.]
Cami, it's Evelyn O'Connell. I should like to solicit your opinion on something, if I may.
Oh, hey Evelyn. [Cami doesn't need too long to answer the phone; she tries not to leave messages unanswered, given just how reluctant some people are to turn to her at all. Evelyn counts among that number, jaded by her experiences in Wonderland, but Cami's not entirely surprised the woman would have a reason to reach out. After all, she's spoken to Rick O'Connell, and while Cami herself shows it's possible to share that last name and not be related--is it really possible for three of them to be in this realm without a single pre-existing connection?]
Of course; do you want to meet somewhere? [While it may not be easier to confide things in person, Cami's found most people still prefer it. It feels more grounded and real than simply talking to a voice over the phones, although Cami would happily stick to communication-via-distance if that's the woman's preference.]
[ It's been a day. Dean's birthday, to be specific, which hits Sam like a hammer to the head and rings there for hours and hours. He tries to avoid it, goes inside, outside, walks the dogs, reads over old notes, has a drink, stares at his ceiling in a confusing daze. Not much distracts from the fact that his brother's gone and hasn't come back yet and that today is a good (bad) day to reminiscence about all the crap they'd been through together in Wonderland. About what Dean might be going through back home, remembering nothing of the bizarre mansion and its people.
It's one of those people that he sends a message to later in the day, brows furrowed and a feeling of being lost weighing on his mind. ]
[She's honestly a little surprised to get the text; Cami and Sam have become better friends, but he's always kept her at arms length when it comes to--well, anything. His own death, Dean's becoming a demon, then the latter's disappearance. All of it Sam's tried to shoulder on his own, with Cami calling him on his attempts to pretend he's okay while he does. So to get a message like this out of the blue is a shock and concern alike; if he wants to talk, she has to worry about just what's happened that's so bad he's willing to.]
Yeah, I'm free. Want to meet somewhere? [She doubts he's going to come knocking on the door to her office, but Cami's flexible.]
[ after this and this and during a more thorough search of the mansion, klaus hesitates over cami's name in his phone. his thumb hovers, and it's the rapid, worried beat of his pulse, the selfish impulse to reach out, and the reactive flare of agitation at himself that have him typing a message.
he needs to know, regardless. ] Have you seen Freya?
It's the first thought to cross her mind when she sees what he's written, an angry and selfish concern. Cami banishes it quickly; her own problems don't exactly feature a paranoid, unspeakably powerful hybrid who wouldn't send the message without reason.]
Not recently, no.
[And then, because she knows Klaus, because she knows he would be looking:]
Were her things still in her room when you looked?
[ he doesn't need this sleep, nor does he desire it this night. he remembers the last, his head resting next to hers, the weight and warmth and presence of her anchored to him through touch, through embrace.
time is a fickle, mortal thing, and he's long discounted its ticks; how it slows and speeds, grants each moment and denies the same with impunity.
time has denied him this, once. it has denied him her, and he has no intention of letting it slip by, unknown and unaccounted for, now. he would like to let his eyes close, but he wishes to stay with her more: to hear the steady tempo of her breath, the slowed beat of her heart. he wants to cling to both now, knowing he won't have to bear waking to the absence of both: to blood and terror and anguish instead.
he wants to fill that space, that memory, with something better.
she has turned away from him at some point, the space between them small, the nearness of her body to his a comfort; a cruel and sweet reflection of that morning. when the sun filters through the windows, golden and white and soft, he studies the cream and saffron and vanilla of her hair, close enough to touch his cheek, fragrant and soft. he thinks of her, and this, and them. he thinks of them here and what it will mean with an anxiety that strains and stoppers his breath.
he wants to do right by her, by them. he sees no other way.
he knows when she is waking, can sense it in her shallowing breath, in the small shifts of her shoulders. it's a relief that clenches something in his chest, what he'd truly been waiting for this whole night: a different ending. a new beginning. the weight of his still hand at her hip traces up into the curve of her waist. his fingers dip over her ribs, up her spine to her neck with slow, coaxing tenderness. he brushes under the silk of her hair, his palm warm as it moves along her shoulder, guiding her back from her dreams. back to him. ]
[For Cami, this is the first night time has granted her to stitch together this memory, and she tries at first to make it last. Even as sleep pulls at her she fights it, holds her eyes open for just a few moments longer until she no longer can. Eventually slumber claims her, but even that is something sweet; there are few moments, after all, that she can color as safe ones, ones that leave her truly peaceful and content.
They have fought this for a long time, and with good reason. Later, they will have to think of those reasons, the truth of what this night and each after mean--but Cami is too tired, too happy when she drifts off. Those thoughts can be banished for a time in favor of the simplicity of this night.
She sleeps, and if she dreams she doesn’t remember--that in and of itself a blessing for someone haunted by nightmares. When morning comes she’s slow to wake, even as his touch coaxes her back from that blissful darkness. His touch reminds her of where she is, draws a smile from her lips as memories create her first thoughts: the eagerness of their kisses, the intensity of his gaze.
The heady rush that comes from surrendering to something she’s wanted for ages.
Cami doesn’t yet want that perfect night to end, even as the morning light colors what she sees behind closed eyes. But Klaus’s fingers make a tempting lure, and Cami slowly turns to close that small gap between them. Reality will set in soon, all the things they have to face now that this attraction has become something more. For now, however, she burrows close to him, presses herself against him with her head tucked in at the crook of his neck.]
“G’morning.” [Her greeting softly spoken, she slips a hand around his waist. She hopes that whether he’s spent his night sleeping or keeping watch, that this morning he still feels the happiness that she does, the contentment that has her smile simply because she must.]
[Rebekah doesn't know Camille as well as the rest of her family does but she likes her well enough and her brother cares about her deeply and that makes her important. And she has been helpful to Rebekah and she can even remember the false memories of Hogwarts where they were seemingly closer. With all that in mind Camille will find a wrapped up book of William Blake's poetry (one of Klaus' favorites, it's not a coincidence, Rebekah isn't known for her subtly) along with a note.
[He won't have to wait long. Despite the existence of a whole other world on the opposite side of the glass, Cami still checks her hair and her make-up every day. She still looks in the mirror to make sure her outfit looks right on her.
She stops to read the scrawl, unable to keep her eyes from going wide, or her jaw from clenching at the
(true)
audacious claim written on the other side of the glass.]
Guess someone got bored. [She swallows back the pain, the jealousy that spikes at the assertion. Old fears; needless ones now, because Klaus has made his promise to her.] You really don't have anything better to do than play creepy stalker to some random person?
[ he's never been particularly dedicated to celebrating an oft-commercialized holiday that carries little weight regarding the sanctity and preciousness of his relationships, platonic or romantic in kind. yet, despite his due criticism in direct opposition to rebekah's crooning and cawing, klaus rather enjoys the idea of valentine's day. he enjoys the celebration of romance for a lover's sake—he enjoys it when there's someone to do it for.
not just any someone. he's picked the room, the music, the food, the champagne. he's taken the time and the thought to carefully craft this night as a reprieve and a gift both for camille. for them. he's at her door at eight o'clock sharp, confident and moved by his nerves and excitement both. he knocks, and he waits. ]
[Cami knows there are a lot of pitfalls involved in assigning value to a certain day: it’s potentially a set-up for disaster, when life doesn’t conform to a person’s expectations of time. And yes, Valentine’s is highly commercialized, an opportunity for business of all sorts to make a nice chunk of cash as people scramble around looking to impress a partner.
Honestly, though? Tonight, Cami doesn’t care. She’s got a date, a surprise that’s been promised to her by the guy she loves. Cynicism takes a backseat to giddy excitement as she gets ready, and Cami takes longer than she would ever admit to ensure her appearance is perfect.
She knows Klaus; he doesn’t do things halfway. Considering how much effort she’s sure he’s put into this, it’s a small price to pay to make sure she looks her best.
Thankfully, she’s ready when he comes to call, eight o’clock as planned. Cami opens the door, her smile wide and bright as she steps out wearing a colorful dress, demurely topped with a short denim jacket. And of course his necklace: a cross of diamonds, glittering against her skin in the light of the hall.]
Hey, wow. [She takes a moment to look him over, appreciating both the quality of the suit and the way it flatters his body. No, he definitely doesn’t do things halfway.] You look fantastic.
[ Stefan doesn't want to write this text, but if he doesn't write it now, he'll have to tell her when they meet up for therapy - and somehow, that seems even worse. ]
I think our next session will have to be our last one.
[ "I don't want it to be."
But it has to be, he knows. The sooner he rips off that band-aid, the sooner he can meet them with no regrets, and the sooner he can return to being the gloomy grump that everyone from Mystic Falls is well-acquainted with. (Also, selfishly, he hopes he'll gain that perspective he seeks. Old Stefan had his reasons, and it's about time new Stefan learned them.) ]
What's your favorite dessert? I'll bring that with me. Be as specific as possible, or you'll be stuck with my tiramisu.
[Well that's entirely unexpected--although in retrospect, maybe it should be. Cami hasn't exactly been the greatest therapist as of late.
Still.]
Is this because I haven't been able to see you in awhile? [The bar's kept her busier for longer than she thought, which isn't the whole truth but a convenient enough one. As justified as she knows her reasons are, however, it's still hard to think that they might have caused this much of a rift.
Which is why she forgoes any answers about desert at the moment. It's sweet (ha), but also a pretty good way to distract from the question she hopes he's willing to answer.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text » im gonna re app him at some point shshshs
Want to get a drink?
pfft. better do it soon, or he leaves wonderland
[Notably, she hasn't said no.]
backdated to vday!
First will be a small painting of New Orleans, one of many he's created since arriving all those months ago. He figures she might be just as homesick as he is.
Beside that is a small box, inside a silver necklace with a pendant that is a runic symbol. Included is a small note inside:
After that, he returns to his room and proceeds to paint a storm, his inspiration returning to him for the first time in weeks. ]
eeeee :D
And with enough booze and chocolate, the sting caused by said lack of date should fade away nicely.
Of course, as he so often does, Klaus derails any sort of plans Cami might make for herself the moment she steps into her room. Even before she sees the box, the painting has an unmistakable source. Putting aside her shoebox, Cami moves over to the bed, picking up the artwork first just to look at it.
It's home. New Orleans, a place that only loses the craziest city in the universe title to Wonderland itself. She smiles a little, thinking of things that have happened on the very street Klaus has depicted. It's a sweet gesture, and Cami already knows just where on her walls she wants to hang the painting.
She might have even done so then, except he's given her a second offering. While the artwork may have been from a friend, jewelry has a pretty clear and traditional message. The necklace is absolutely beautiful, even without any knowledge of the symbol's meaning. And of course, Klaus has taken care of that too, teasing her with the promise of understanding should she come to his room.
Except that offer is so much more than a simple promise to talk, and she knows it. Her fingers trace the outline of the symbol as in her head Cami makes any number of guesses to what it might mean. For as callous and cruel as Klaus can be, when he makes a gesture of good will he always seems to find the perfect form for it. Whatever this rune means, it's not just what Klaus thinks of her; it's how he views this thing that's developed between them.
Honestly, she could kick him for putting her in this position.
Well, he's going to have to wait a bit longer to tell her. This isn't a formal evening out to a gala, but Cami still wants to wear something nicer than she had to Star Wars. It's a good date night outfit, but still simple enough to Cami's eyes to make it look like she hasn't gone to too much effort. She's nearly ready to talk out the door when she takes another look at the necklace, still stunning, still safely tucked away in its box. She debates it for a second, then puts the lid back on, opting to carry the gift with her. Whether she'll wear it before the night is out depends entirely on what he has to say--and Cami would be lying if she claimed she isn't eager to hear it. One way or another, tonight may truly be the moment when she knows what's happening between them.
Shortly after, Klaus will get a knock on his door. She doesn't have a present for him, certainly not anything with the same thought and consideration he showed. But she has brought along a rich red wine, well aged, more than suitable for sharing on this particular night.
that outfit is SO CUTE btw
thank you! i saw it and knew it was the one.
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video
He leans back with a soft exhale.
He's sitting in a window alcove overlooking the mansion grounds, but he tilts the phone away from the window automatically. ]
Ms. O'Connell, this is Bucky Barnes. [ It's still strange to say it aloud, but it's the name that he gave her. ] I don't know if you remember me, but we spoke a couple of weeks before the Jabberwocky attacked.
Re: video
Hey! Of course I remember. [She's not likely to forget someone so desperately searching for a way to unlock his own memory.] I'm glad you called--and you can call me Cami, for the record. [Ms. O'Connell is better than Camille, but she still prefers the nickname.] How are you?
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video
Re: video
just in time for therapy tbh
You said my brother isn't here, so why is my brother making a freaking appearance?
[ Sure is drinking from a mostly empty vodka bottle, and it sure didn't start out like that.
Why is he even bothering to contact her of all people - she seemed to know him well enough and however weird that was, it was still somewhat comforting. ]
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[She takes a second to watch the video, then shakes her head.]
Although hopefully less wasted. Let me guess: things are complicated between you two?
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voice » drags you right back into drama cami ; backdated to after kol's fight w elijah
[ The words aren't the scary part, the scary part is how calmly Kol delivers the threat. ]
And if he tries to hurt you; well, I'd suggest telling me.
Re: voice » OMG YOU'VE BEEN BACK FOR FIVE MINUTES KOL
Kol, what happened?
voice » thats like five hours in mikaelson time
Re: voice » :|
voice »
Re: voice »
voice;
Those who knew of the dalliance are long-gone and those involved have, similarly, flown Wonderland's coop. Normally Evelyn might attempt to compartmentalise her own issues in a way most befitting an Englishwoman, but with the arrival of her husband in early December she is forced into the uncomfortable position of confronting the consequences of her choices. She cannot keep it from him; the backbone of her relationship with Rick is trust.
More than therapy Evelyn needs advice, lacking a confidante who might best comprehend her situation.]
Cami, it's Evelyn O'Connell. I should like to solicit your opinion on something, if I may.
Re: voice;
Of course; do you want to meet somewhere? [While it may not be easier to confide things in person, Cami's found most people still prefer it. It feels more grounded and real than simply talking to a voice over the phones, although Cami would happily stick to communication-via-distance if that's the woman's preference.]
voice;
Re: voice;
voice; -> action;
action
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text;
It's one of those people that he sends a message to later in the day, brows furrowed and a feeling of being lost weighing on his mind. ]
Hey. You free to talk?
Re: text;
Yeah, I'm free. Want to meet somewhere? [She doubts he's going to come knocking on the door to her office, but Cami's flexible.]
text;
Re: text;
text;
Re: text;
obviously not text
unless they're standing in front of each other, typing away. they don't need words.
seems legit
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text. november 2nd.
he needs to know, regardless. ] Have you seen Freya?
Re: text. november 2nd.
It's the first thought to cross her mind when she sees what he's written, an angry and selfish concern. Cami banishes it quickly; her own problems don't exactly feature a paranoid, unspeakably powerful hybrid who wouldn't send the message without reason.]
Not recently, no.
[And then, because she knows Klaus, because she knows he would be looking:]
Were her things still in her room when you looked?
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morning of november 3rd.
time is a fickle, mortal thing, and he's long discounted its ticks; how it slows and speeds, grants each moment and denies the same with impunity.
time has denied him this, once. it has denied him her, and he has no intention of letting it slip by, unknown and unaccounted for, now. he would like to let his eyes close, but he wishes to stay with her more: to hear the steady tempo of her breath, the slowed beat of her heart. he wants to cling to both now, knowing he won't have to bear waking to the absence of both: to blood and terror and anguish instead.
he wants to fill that space, that memory, with something better.
she has turned away from him at some point, the space between them small, the nearness of her body to his a comfort; a cruel and sweet reflection of that morning. when the sun filters through the windows, golden and white and soft, he studies the cream and saffron and vanilla of her hair, close enough to touch his cheek, fragrant and soft. he thinks of her, and this, and them. he thinks of them here and what it will mean with an anxiety that strains and stoppers his breath.
he wants to do right by her, by them. he sees no other way.
he knows when she is waking, can sense it in her shallowing breath, in the small shifts of her shoulders. it's a relief that clenches something in his chest, what he'd truly been waiting for this whole night: a different ending. a new beginning. the weight of his still hand at her hip traces up into the curve of her waist. his fingers dip over her ribs, up her spine to her neck with slow, coaxing tenderness. he brushes under the silk of her hair, his palm warm as it moves along her shoulder, guiding her back from her dreams. back to him. ]
Re: morning of november 3rd.
They have fought this for a long time, and with good reason. Later, they will have to think of those reasons, the truth of what this night and each after mean--but Cami is too tired, too happy when she drifts off. Those thoughts can be banished for a time in favor of the simplicity of this night.
She sleeps, and if she dreams she doesn’t remember--that in and of itself a blessing for someone haunted by nightmares. When morning comes she’s slow to wake, even as his touch coaxes her back from that blissful darkness. His touch reminds her of where she is, draws a smile from her lips as memories create her first thoughts: the eagerness of their kisses, the intensity of his gaze.
The heady rush that comes from surrendering to something she’s wanted for ages.
Cami doesn’t yet want that perfect night to end, even as the morning light colors what she sees behind closed eyes. But Klaus’s fingers make a tempting lure, and Cami slowly turns to close that small gap between them. Reality will set in soon, all the things they have to face now that this attraction has become something more. For now, however, she burrows close to him, presses herself against him with her head tucked in at the crook of his neck.]
“G’morning.” [Her greeting softly spoken, she slips a hand around his waist. She hopes that whether he’s spent his night sleeping or keeping watch, that this morning he still feels the happiness that she does, the contentment that has her smile simply because she must.]
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From Now On Our Troubles Will Be Out Of Sight
Merry Christmas
Sincerely,
Rebekah]
ɹoɹɹᴉɯ | sometime this month ur welcome
I don't know why you bother to pretend. He doesn't love you, not like he loves her.
i feel so special
She stops to read the scrawl, unable to keep her eyes from going wide, or her jaw from clenching at the
(true)
audacious claim written on the other side of the glass.]
Guess someone got bored. [She swallows back the pain, the jealousy that spikes at the assertion. Old fears; needless ones now, because Klaus has made his promise to her.] You really don't have anything better to do than play creepy stalker to some random person?
;)
Re: ;)
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valentine's day.
not just any someone. he's picked the room, the music, the food, the champagne. he's taken the time and the thought to carefully craft this night as a reprieve and a gift both for camille. for them. he's at her door at eight o'clock sharp, confident and moved by his nerves and excitement both. he knocks, and he waits. ]
Re: valentine's day.
Honestly, though? Tonight, Cami doesn’t care. She’s got a date, a surprise that’s been promised to her by the guy she loves. Cynicism takes a backseat to giddy excitement as she gets ready, and Cami takes longer than she would ever admit to ensure her appearance is perfect.
She knows Klaus; he doesn’t do things halfway. Considering how much effort she’s sure he’s put into this, it’s a small price to pay to make sure she looks her best.
Thankfully, she’s ready when he comes to call, eight o’clock as planned. Cami opens the door, her smile wide and bright as she steps out wearing a colorful dress, demurely topped with a short denim jacket. And of course his necklace: a cross of diamonds, glittering against her skin in the light of the hall.]
Hey, wow. [She takes a moment to look him over, appreciating both the quality of the suit and the way it flatters his body. No, he definitely doesn’t do things halfway.] You look fantastic.
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text » may 3rd.
I think our next session will have to be our last one.
[ "I don't want it to be."
But it has to be, he knows. The sooner he rips off that band-aid, the sooner he can meet them with no regrets, and the sooner he can return to being the gloomy grump that everyone from Mystic Falls is well-acquainted with. (Also, selfishly, he hopes he'll gain that perspective he seeks. Old Stefan had his reasons, and it's about time new Stefan learned them.) ]
What's your favorite dessert? I'll bring that with me.
Be as specific as possible, or you'll be stuck with my tiramisu.
Re: text » may 3rd.
Still.]
Is this because I haven't been able to see you in awhile? [The bar's kept her busier for longer than she thought, which isn't the whole truth but a convenient enough one. As justified as she knows her reasons are, however, it's still hard to think that they might have caused this much of a rift.
Which is why she forgoes any answers about desert at the moment. It's sweet (ha), but also a pretty good way to distract from the question she hopes he's willing to answer.]
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