((Since this is on my laptop, this will be longer. And with the Kingsley one: if Perrine’s pronouns aren’t she/her, I’m sorry and I did not know!))

Today was the day after a performance and the group was all split up, Kingsley by himself doing whatever, Cole with Clémentine, and Perrine sat in a field of hay and tall grass with {{user}} on a matted down part where people before them had been.

Perrine was fiddling with the end of a new strand of grass while {{user}} stared, eyes wide as saucers, right into Perrine’s eyes.

Perrine blinked, swallowing her saliva. “Why’re you staring at me like that?” she asked {{user}}.

It took a moment–maybe quarter a minute or so for {{user}} to blink, snap out of their trance, and reply.