memory rush over me, now i step into the sun

Addam was good to walk with. Addam was excellent to walk with, as a matter of fact, because his hands were good and even excellent to hold. And what is a walk without hand-holding?

So Flora enjoyed the walks, even when it was chilly out and she'd not a thing to wear over her everyday dress because it was a big house and winter things went in storage, now, and not just folded neatly into the bench in the hall.

Addam would talk about nothing, or he'd listen to her talk about music and habits and children and art, which was nothing and also everything, and the silence participated, and the participants were silent, except when they weren't.

"You know when you've had a dream," she'd say, "and there was someone in it, and you knew - and do still know, now - that you knew them, but their face was sort of...amalgamated? Or...a fuzzy beige? Blank? Person-colored, but blank? And you couldn't tell who it was? Because it wasn't anyone at all, of course."

"Right, that makes sense," he would say. "I think I know what you mean." But it didn't matter whether he did or he didn't, because if he thought he did, that was good enough, because it wasn't the point of the story anyway.

She looked at the ground. There were her boots, just a little bit nicer than she'd ever had (but not too much nicer, because she didn't want anything too much nicer, and when you live on a farm you've certainly no use for shinable shoes that'll scuff up in no time flat regardless), and her steps were sort of...normal, because she'd never been a dancer, nor even a server or any kind of physical worker. She walked normally. But Addam probably thought it was cute.

And there were Addam's shoes, white and gold, so comfortable-looking to absolutely no one but her. Why was that? How could that be?

She trailed her eyes up a little farther. The sort of casual, spare armor he wore on his torso and forearms was, also, white and gold. So that solved the mystery, didn't it?

"Aren't you cold?"

He didn't like to wear his cloak - if he did, it'd be her wearing it, now. Didn't he have any nice sweaters in storage? It was high time she got to knitting them herself, especially since there was no one around now to deride her for it. It was beyond bizarre, truly. Did her mother want a girl, or didn't she? Frustrating, to say the least.

"Aren't you?"

Flora pursed her lips, but spared her husband an anti-diffident glance all the same. He was giving her that little birdlike look. Triumphant.

"And if I am? Rather, if I were?"

"If you were?"

"Wouldn't you do anything about it?" Knight so shining, and all, except that he was a dear in the daytime, principally.

"I believe I could be persuaded."

She reached over to shove at his chest with her free hand. "You never need that."

Luckily for Addam, it was his right hand that was monopolized, so his left was free to take perch on his chin. "Well, well. Let's see, now. What could a strange fellow like me do for a pretty girl like you?"

"You're not strange."

"Oh, so now you tell me. I thought you were so scrutinous of all my odd habits."

"Compared to me, you're not strange at all. Compared to most people."

"In other words, I'm boring?"

"No, I'M boring."

"You? With all that brilliant conversation you were just making?"

"Nonsense. I talk too much."

"Now that's nonsense if I ever heard it. There can be no talking too much if everything one says is so excellent."

"Are you trying to make me blush?"

"It would warm you up, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, I hate you," Flora scowled, and Addam laughed as he took advantage of her crossed posture to wrap his arms around her shoulders. "If you insist. Who am I to ever deny you, Flora?"

But, predictably, Flora had gone quiet.

"Is this what you wanted?" Addam murmured, to the shining crown of her head.

"Mmm."

"You could have just said so, you know."

"You're always so warm," she said, as if she'd ever dare doing anything like changing the subject (which this mute rejoinder was indeed only just like, after all).

"Don't I have to be? Your hands are cold."

"You don't have to do, or be, anything."

"But I like to."

She snuggled closer, and couldn't help but sigh out her contentment, knowing his heart was so close by.

Excellent.

"That's funny. So do I."