her little hands grasp his as they sit within her home in bevelle. 'um! oh forgi-forgive me if i'm forward? i-is it comfortable here? i apologize. my father thought you ought to visit.' she worries her bottom lip shyly. 'you know i don't...ah, well, have really any friends. do you mind if -- ' her shyness and gentle mien belies even as a young child, the infinite strength in her eyes. 'seymour would you like to be friends? if um, that's alright. i hear you live very far away. we could even write letters. it's.." her face brightens; full of light.
"i really enjoy playing and hearing your stories!"
╼ ༺ :| As if on command, Yuna’s bold grasp lit up his face red with surprised embarrassment, the Guado’s prominent, blue veins turning the faintest shade of purple that for a moment left Seymour utterly speechless. Her previous question of his comfort lost at the mention of friends. And...well... His own predicament he’d come to understand through others around him in Guadosalam, but Seymour couldn’t find reason why no one wouldn’t desire to be her friend.
“I- I’d like that.” His smile grew wide, cutting off a laugh with intent to cover up this shy bout he was feeling. Already he couldn’t wait to tell Mother, or write his first letter.
“I’ll ask my Father if you can visit us next time! And then we can ride the Shoopuf together. It’s huge! And there’s more you have to see, Yuna.” All the while, Seymour failed to notice how she kept his excitement grounded with his hands in hers.