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[silvergarden]

❝ Hello... you have reached Rinea.❞

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[silvergarden]

[Rinea relaxes easily in his grip, smile curling with pleased satisfaction. Somnus's nonverbal communication is subtle, but she doesn't miss it; it gladdens her to have spurred him. Frankly, she craves it. Each little touch makes her feel that much more loved.

As they exit to the balcony Rinea accepts the glass with a little laugh. Speaking of nonverbal communication, Somnus certainly likes to express himself through gifts, doesn't he? Even now he is seeking to hone his craft to her favor. He is so sweet, she thinks, smiling up at him admiringly. Unraveling his human behaviors little by little like this is such a joy.]

It is not quite bouquet centerpiece material... [Rinea casts her gaze across the gardens below as she answers.] ...but in Rigel, I liked andromeda plants. They were hardy things, but so pretty. In the same way, here in Avalon, I love lilies of the valley. And harebells.

[The gardens house a willow tree in the middle distance; its gently drooping boughs echo the plants she speaks of, too.]

They look a little melancholy... but they are growing well, just the same.

[luciing]

[ Andromeda plants... If only there was a way to bring them here for her. Or perhaps there is, and he needs only discover it himself. Anything for her, truly. Perhaps it's no surprise that his primary love language is giving gifts, when he still has much to learn in other ways to express himself.

But he is learning. Case in point: how he currently has his hand to be around her back, settled upon her waist and giving her a soft press towards him so that she may lean into him as they look out towards the garden. Even this much contact causes his heart to quicken and skip to a melody he's known only because of her. ]

Melancholy...? [ He repeats softly, musing. He supposes he could see the association, even if he's not at all educated on flowers. She seems to see the beauty in a number of what would be considered melancholy things himself, included. ]

Then let them be of joy, instead, and strength. [ Where he has his hand still positioned upon her waist, his thumb idly strokes back and forth over the same spot. It is warm. With her, it is warm. ] Much like yourself.

[silvergarden]

[Rinea's shoulders shake in a silent giggle. Sometimes the way Somnus compliments her is so sincerely meaningful that it's almost embarrassing.] Well, thank you.

[Invited by his continued hold, Rinea settles contentedly-- maybe boldly-- into Somnus's side. The sounds of the gala behind them are a comforting hum of merriment. The outside air is fresh on their faces, and its chill is kept easily at bay with Somnus's warmth. Unlike the last time she held him this close--worried for him after Ardyn, holding him tightly so he wouldn't fade away-- now, she is utterly at peace.]

The lily of the valley, in particular... [Rinea's fingers close a little tighter on the stem of her glass.] In the language of flowers, it can mean a return to happiness.

Maybe it's silly, but I'd like to think... [She can't quite meet his eyes.] ...Perhaps that can be us.

[luciing]

[ Had this been a year ago, it would be impossible to imagine himself settled, weary but content, on a balcony with another beside him, his arm around her. There are many uncertainties in this realm, even more within his own that forever weigh on his mind, but with but a few kind words, touch, and the gentle cadence of her voice, the burden of it all eases. For once in two thousand years, his mind is... quiet.

"It can mean a return to happiness."

He isn't quite there yet, but the journey has already started with her. Even if either of them were to vanish tomorrow, he is certain that what he has learned from her won't be forgotten, but cherished. A return to happiness-- it is a path he will walk, for if someone as good as her believes it is something they both may have, then who is he to deny it?

As always, she is inspiring, and this quiet hope she shares with him translates into a hope he harbors for himself, for her, for the both of them, and what they have. Warmth eases his expression, smoothing the steel of his voice. A ghost of a smile, fond and calm, pulls at the corner of his lips as he turns his head to admire her profile. ]

I shall make it so.