#plegify

[armorhearted]

plegify started following you

❋ -- | "Is that...Father...?" 

[ Inigo's face splits into a grin at the sight of the too-familiar face, and he breaks into a jog to draw level with Henry. First his mother, now his father. He's beginning to think this place won't be so bad. Maybe here, they can be a family. ] 

"Father, hello! How long have you been here? Are you well?" | -- ❋

[domestiquer]

      Flying 15 feet off the ground for a few minutes isn't exactly the typical amount of exercise Cherche has with Minerva, and with so many people concentrated into these cities, it's a bit difficult to keep track of each other. So, unfortunately, they've both been forced to downgrade to a simple daily walk--it's nice, but not nearly as fun or enjoyable as soaring through the skies.

      In the midst of her stroll, however, she stumbles upon a young man crouched on the ground. Though, he doesn't appear to be in any sort of pain, his practice of muttering to himself (or so it seems) is rather odd, but as she gets a closer look, she can easily see the familiar, white hair and unique clothing of her good friend--

      ❝Henry? Is that you?❞ She peers down at him, watching him as he continues mumbling strange things. ❝My, in all my months of residence here, I had no idea you were with us!❞

[stagefrights]

A bouquet of a dozen pink roses— the outer petals tinged with glitter— is left by her bedside table, with the stems tied around the middle in a light pink ribbon. Just like how she had, he leaves a note on light purple paper; his scrawl is naturally messy, but he hopes that she can read it.

Hi, Olivia! It's funny, I used to think that this sort of holiday was just a bunch of nonsense... But now, I'm happy that I have someone to spend it with.

      Oh, don't worry! All of my days are wonderful, when I'm with you. In fact, seeing you always puts a smile on my face, so I don't know why I need this special day to tell you how much I love you!!

He pauses, tapping the pen against his lip, before he continues to write. The phrase is bizarre to him, but if she had written it, then there was no harm in following suit.

With love,                                      Henry.

     Always a surprise, she's pleased-- at least, the roses gifted are all in tact, beautiful as they were dainty. She was still learning the traditions of this city, a new country to explore; her face lights up immediately, picking up the purple paper between her petite fingers.

    Simple words were enough to bring a smile to her face, she was certain why she managed to write those words-- Olivia wished she could be more delicate in her words, she felt silly by this point. He managed to speak the words she couldn't, knowing the final part to be true. No one needed a day, even so it was nice.

    Bringing the roses to the bridge of her nose, the dancer sniffs each one, watching as sparkles glistened in front of her very eyes.