than knowing this tired and lonely fate.
Does he love you, does he love you?
Will he hold your tiny face in his hands?
Saturday, Feb. 17 • Midday
Vera's wand directed a large, gaily wrapped box up in front of her as she walked down the hallway to Daphne's apartment.
Holding it under her arm would crush the foofy bow, and that would never do.
The present bustled its way into the flat as soon as the door was opened. Vera shrugged in apology to Daphne and smiled; what could she say, she was a touch excited.
"Please accept this fine gift, and don't assume it's a bribe to get you to pick somewhere dreadfully fancy for lunch where they trip over themselves to wait on us hand and foot because I'm willing to go wherever you choose, honestly."