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· 🙤 •° · ︻╦デ╤━━╾ ·°• 🙦 ·
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❝ I never took you as the romantic type. ❞
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WITH THE MISSON COMPLETE, FLARE and Five head back to where they initially landed—off in some field, and far from the prying eyes of civilization. It's a necessary precaution they must take, in case a wandering Roman were to accidentally stumble across them while they teleport away. The sun is setting, and it casts a warm glow over the clearing they're strolling through.
"Well, I'll be honest," Flare starts, stretching as she walks, "that was fun as hell!"
Five hums in acknowledgement, "I'm not sure if that's the best way to describe it, but I'm glad we succeeded," he locks eyes with her. "You did good."
Something in her stomach flutters, and she smiles, "Thanks, Fivey."
He nods, turning his gaze back to the sunset.
"But, yeah," she continues, "Roman architecture is absolutely gorgeous. Oh, and that Lucius fella—he was so nice!" she lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Too bad I had to threaten him with death so he wouldn't snitch."
"What did you even like about the guy?" Five grumbles. "I don't get it. He looked kind of dumb, especially with the sandals."
"Oh, come on! Maybe you're right . . . but as ridiculous as the sandals were, he still managed to pull the tunic off."
"I disagree."
"That's because you wear knee socks! What? do you think that's a more attractive form of fashion?"
"You wear them, too. Besides, it's better than an extravagant, dangly robe that gets in the way."
"That's true, I guess," she laughs. "I'd hate to be running from the Roman cops, and then snag my silly little toga on a cart or something."
"You and me both."
"And if it makes you feel better, I do like your get-up more," she says with amusement lacing her tone, "Even the socks. There. Happy?"
The corners of Five's lips curl upwards ever-so-slightly at her sarcasm. It's small, but enough for the girl to notice. She feels her smile widen. It's a rare sight since he usually wears a cocky smirk or brooding glare.
"How's your wound?" he asks, though he sounds unconcerned.
