cliodhnamcgrath·:
your lips part slightly as you begin to contemplate the idea of thirteen books in five years. what was that? close to two and a half a year? you stare a moment longer before he asks his next question and you quickly change the expression written across your features. taking a sip of your wine, you lick your lips and shake your head, brows crickling across your brow, “no. no of course that doesn’t make me judge you. each to their own, right? and right now? the priory of the orange tree. it’s massive. around nine hundred pages. but who doesn’t love a fantasy novel every once in a while, hm?” you laugh the, toothy grin working it’s way across your features before you reach for a peanut. “it’s not offensive. it really just means fun. or a good time. easily mixed up with various americans to mean something entirely different, i’ve noticed, but not offensive no. c - r - a - i - c. craic. pronounced like crack.” you swallow before leaning on your knees, looking him over, “i know, you’re very lucky to have your own private show.” you touch his chin then in jest before leaning back, “oh i know it’ll ruin the mood. i’ve been reading a modern poet lately.. courtney peppernell? she’s all i have in my head right now.. and a mood downer at that. so maybe, y’know, just a pass on it. for tonight.”
   your eyes widen as she mentions how big the book she’s reading is. you can’t imagine how thick it is or how many hours that would personally take you. a frown pulls at your lips before your eyes snap back towards her. “fantasy novel? the title alone sounds epic. i don’t even know what some of it means. does it have battles?” the way she laughs make you grin in return. you find clio has this effect on you. you’re not sure exactly when it happened, but you wouldn’t change it either way. she’s a light in your life and you make sure she knows it as often as you can remind her without being obnoxious. more so than you usually are. “c - r - a - i - c? you type it in and get about the same definition she just gave you. “what’s the craic? alright. i’m going to start slipping this into conversations. impress some people.” then her fingers are on your chin and there’s an uptick in your heart rate. it staccatos right beneath your ribcage and you’re not sure you’ll actually survive the show later. “my own private show,” you slip out mindlessly before clearing your throat. “alright, we can pass on it tonight. more fun things. i like when you smile. it’s top five favorite things.”
