You love to talk. You could talk endless on hours about anything and everything. Theseus was quiet; you were never sure if he was listening so you’d stop, only for him to look at you, gesturing for you to continue.

"You know; you’re allowed to tell me to go away?" You urged, looking to him for a response.

Theseus put his book down to gaze at you. "Why would I ever want that?"