"It won't take long, I promise!"

Part of Azriel wants to point out that your promise came and went four stores ago, but he also can't bring himself to pop your little bubble of happiness. It's rare that the two of you get this kind of freedom -- him moreso than you, given his duties as Spymaster -- and he's reluctant to cut it short.

The fact that you keep giving him those sweet smiles that send his heart racing and his shadows swirling in a frenzy is definitely not helping lend him the image of a weary partner. He's a patient shadow a few steps behind you as you flit from shop to shop, sometimes with another bag that he takes from you without a word.

"This isn't all for everyone else," you tell him between shops, "some of it is for you, so no peeking." The look that you level him with almost makes him laugh, but he obeys your order not to look -- not even with his shadows.

There's a brief pause to allow him to take the accumulated bags back to the House of Wind, and were he a different man, he'd coo over the patient way that you wait for him to return. Though most of the day has been spent shopping for the others (and himself, though he hopes you've also gotten things for yourself), there really isn't a single thing that he can complain about as the day winds down.

It's as close to perfect as a day can get, he thinks.

Which is, of course, why, with the very brief warning rumble of thunder, it begins to rain.