“…I like your usual outfit better. It’s more… you. But this is good, too. It’s…”
He’d been turning that conversation in his mind over and over again in the days leading up to this, in between training or doing his duty as a Knight of Seiros. There had been the thought, at least a few times throughout, that he could just show up to the ball in his day-to-day ensemble since dressing up wasn’t required or necessarily expected of the staff. That he would mostly only be there to stand guard anyway, unlike the majority looking to enjoy themselves and forget all their worries for an evening. …Or something along those lines.
When he considered how that would look next to her though, her and the dresses she’d taken to wearing… Well, what’s another outfit that’ll only see the light of day once in a blue moon? He should be grateful there was at least one tailor in town willing to accept what was nearly a last-minute request.
(It likely helped that he offered to pay extra for the trouble. And that he didn’t want something very complicated at all.)
“Katarina.” Kris finds his way to her first thing, as soon as he’s accepted the flower bouquet pushed into his hands—staff aren’t exempt from playing along is the usual explanation, whether or not one is actually interested in doing so. He isn’t, not really; they’d talked about that once, the memory still tucked away somewhere in one of his mental boxes. Maybe it’s the reality of time’s passage dulling the luster of these things. Maybe it’s because talking alone has never quite been enough for him to really know someone.
He isn’t interested, but she is, and that makes it easier to go through with his impulsive, not-very-thought-out-at-all decision when next he opens his mouth to speak. “You look…” Will it be weird if he says beautiful again, just like he did last year? “You look stunning this time, too.”
The silver lining to the flowers, if he can call it that, is that the petals are just about a perfect match for her hair when he holds up the whole bouquet in offering. “Here. Been thinking about it since the moment I noticed, but they suit you really well.”
There’s no one else he’d rather give them to more, anyway.
"Oh...!" For as fond as she is of greeting him -- one of her favorite parts of any day -- when Katarina turns, she forgets to say anything else entirely. He's dressed up again in an outfit she doesn't recognize when she knows he much prefers dressing down, and that quiet voice in her chest wonders why? Has he met someone he wants to look good for? Does his attire match someone else in this great ballroom? And... was it foolish of her to think she would know, when the time came for her to let go?
...Whatever the case, if there's one thing she's certain of, it's that it must be nothing to do with her.
"Kris," she answers with a smile that threatens to pull at her cheeks. Love can be such a narrow thing at times, but when she looks at him and sees that a bit of color has returned to him, it swells in her chest nearly enough to burst. A hand darts up to her lips as though her knuckles might silence and suppress the laugh that follows, a far too delighted thing.
"...I like this one better than last year," she almost teases, but she is far too relieved to do so. After all, she has seen him these past years -- watched the shadows darken under his eyes and his smile, an uncommon and precious thing, become rarer and rarer still. Nearly lost, she had worried at times, but... she has not the words to put it to voice, but this dark and gentle blue has always put her at ease. She giggles again. "Blue suits you."
Stunning. He thinks she looks stunning. Again. Again? But she has to stay exactly where she is, not a heartbeat out of line, the bouquet accepted without protest when what she sees first is how it makes a splendid shield to hide behind. Petals brush against cheeks in blush, eyes turned downward so that he cannot meet them, cannot see through her as she fears he would. It is hard to believe that flowers might suit her, but maybe it is not so dissimilar as to why she likes it when he wears blue.
(Maybe it is not so dissimilar as to why she likes it when he wears blue.)
"Thank you..." A beat; her head snaps up, realizing only just now that she holds not just a single bloom. "W-wait, all of them--? But what about your-- y, your prize?" As if she doesn't already know it doesn't matter to him all that much. Then again, she hadn't expected him to dress up for a second year, either.
"Are... you sure?" She pulls the bouquet away from her heart, if a bit reluctantly. Instead she looks for a tulip. It would look like a star in his shirt pocket... if he'd had one. But it's not like she can force him to carry around a single flower all night -- should she tuck it into his bouquet and give it back? Surely he wouldn't wear it behind his ear...! It would look charming, though. Katarina shakes her head vigorously.
"Then, can I give you a flower, too?" Her smile takes on a sheepish curl. "You don't have to keep it, but... you've always given me so much. Let me give you something, too."
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