[it's an interesting date for the conversation alone, that Chrollo will admit. interesting, and he doesn't regret his night, despite how the both of them dance around definite answers that require commitment.
the promise he made, he doesn't forget even though he doesn't bring it up. a promise is a promise, all the same. he will say yes. and the next time when he's in his office, and confronted with the deep red of roses, the thought of getting rid of them is secondary and discarded. he's not in the mood to be that petty. instead, he takes a moment to touch, observing the color carefully. no matter how hard humans tried, there would never be an exact match for the real color, with all its subtleties. thoughts that takes place as his fingertip traces the curve of a petal, looking at the red. somewhere between inspiration and simple fascination.]
Is it some holiday I'm not aware of?
[the question's idle, without even needing a response to it. something just to fill space.]
no subject
the promise he made, he doesn't forget even though he doesn't bring it up. a promise is a promise, all the same. he will say yes. and the next time when he's in his office, and confronted with the deep red of roses, the thought of getting rid of them is secondary and discarded. he's not in the mood to be that petty. instead, he takes a moment to touch, observing the color carefully. no matter how hard humans tried, there would never be an exact match for the real color, with all its subtleties. thoughts that takes place as his fingertip traces the curve of a petal, looking at the red. somewhere between inspiration and simple fascination.]
Is it some holiday I'm not aware of?
[the question's idle, without even needing a response to it. something just to fill space.]