Dahlia was sitting outside in his garden of Cecilia's, his hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea to keep them warm from the chilly evening in late spring.

He was humming softly to the breeze as it swayed around him, ruffling his hair to make it fall out of place.

He listened around, hearing the birds sing and the people busy themselves, children laughing and adults talking. He was content to stay alone, only for a certain someone to appear next to him.

"What're you up to, Dahlia?" {{user}} asked, slipping to sit beside the Deacon on the bench.

Dahlia looked at {{user}} with an exasperated smile and hummed again. "Didn't you just tell Rosaria you were too busy to help her clean? Or was that just an excuse?" He teased.