𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙡 𝙎𝙤𝙣

fuck corinium.

"She has a soft spot for the rebels. You aren't entirely surrounded by them but you mostly are. Leo. Can I come in?"

hm, she hesitates about to say no. but a bottle of liquor doesn’t sound awful about right now. she is always so busy that she never gets out. nor gets to really live her age. sure, why not. she’ll have couple drinks and chat.

"Neither. My grandmother likes to meddle and would not leave me alone until I agreed to introduce myself to "the nice young man down the road". So here I am."

oh, hush, less of that. what matters to me is that you’re happy, nothing else. though you’ll never catch me complaining about getting to see your face.

"... I'm not really Avon. But Matte would suit you more than glitter."

what is he thinking? she is down to for whatever, really. just needs to get out for a bit.

don't pretend to understand our relationship, you won't get very far. be a clever boy and behave. that's all i'm asking, i think i'm being rather amicable.

she is feeling rather lonely —

oh, 𝒏ow you feel guilty?

mm, nicely recovered. i’ve missed you too, darling. you know i always do.

maybe you'll actually start listening.

. . . terrible, is it? oh how charming.

perfectly peachy —— just leave him alone.

you never properly introduced yourself so how am i supposed to know your name ?