⠀
vesna was, as described by her family, a flower blossoming through the cracks of ice; the sun, bright during winter; spring——like. such depictions were opinions——based, of course, but there came (many!) times where it was proved »
“Ahaha… really?”
He feels so very awkward. He doesn’t know quite why now. A little laugh comes from his lips as he rubs his eyes. Although, it would be wrong to say that her joy isn’t infectious. “Heheh.”
⠀
( a wave of unease watched through her. even so, she refused to give up her resolve. ) yes, the violin, ( nonchalantly spoken. then harshening her tone, just barely: ) and of their attachment to my wrists, hm?
⠀
miss vesna.
( chuckle, hand going to own chin and interest. feisty thing, the tsaritsa's little fae is. )
you do indeed have beautiful hands. very dainty. do you play any instruments by any chance, hm?
⠀
(the idiom brought a smile toward light——pink chapped lips, gaze drooping lower; all laced in mischief. she then shook her head, the glimpse of it having passed her by, not dwelling. at least, not upon their outward features.) »
⠀
⠀
〝 perfect, 〞 spoken with a smile of her own, eyes glimpsing with mischief, or something similar ———— not to worry, as the demeanor was common, coming from her. her grace made up for it. a hum, 〝 see, that’s so much better! 〞
⠀