The corner of his mouth curled at that. Like singing? When did he NOT feel like singing? To be fair, though, he wanted to sings songs of joy and delight and happiness, not adultery and partying and debauchery. She made him feel things that life didn’t normally give.
”I like eating lunch. So yeah, let’s pack one.”
He caressed the smooth ridges of her braid and turned to his guitar. Should he bring the beat up old thing? His best girl, he called the battered, honey colored instrument. The half veela frowned and considered what could happen if he did. Sitting under a tree, playing for her while she danced, then sit and sing together? Was he stupid? The guitar was coming along. He scooped it up and grabbed his frisbee from the top shelf of his closet.
”I’ll watch you if you watch out for me, too, okay?”
Once he had his stuff, he stacked it by the door and headed to help her finish up the simple picnic. They should take a blanket or sheet or something...but he only had his one set, so should he unmake his bed or maybe, instead, they could do something else.
”How about we sit by the fountain and eat, then play some music and then frisbee so we don’t make ourselves sick?”
If they ran and jumped too much after the food, vomiting would be imminent and that was a no-no. Instead, music. Songs, questions, bonding. Yeah. Grow closer and then play, come back, listen to the radio and cuddle? Sounded like a hell of a night, honestly. Damien helped pack up the meal, grabbed his stuff, then held the door open for her.