At the words lovely looking, she had to restrain the beaming smile that threatened to spread across her face, with a twitch of thick rimmed lips instead settling for a milder, daintier grin that just barely flashed the tips of her fangs. His eye candy comment earned an outright chuckle however, and more than that, a fully engaged audience. Though squatting at the side of the couch had been the sensible option when she first approached him, seeing now that he was willing to talk –and had even admitted to enjoying her company –she saw no more reason to listen in a stance that was only halfway involved.
Stretching her body forward, she slipped in front of the couch arm and onto the seating cushion. Legs pulled to cross and fold at to the side, and her body relaxed into the support of the couch, hands idly twiddling the speckled feathering at her belly. “I don’t know what a muppet is, but I 'appen to like the things that you speak of.” She said this with a deft nod, as though with her approval, the matter had been completely settled.
Her mind returned to what he had said before. His cheerful demeanor had returned, it seemed, but she wondered if he had so easily swallowed down the source of unrest from before. If it was the source of the moping he claimed to commit, then she doubted it. “And I will give you my advice then, though it sounds like you already ‘ave figured it out yourself. At 'ome we 'ad a saying, après la pluie, le beau temps – something like ‘after the rain, the good weather follows’ in your tongue. You 'ave already been through the bad, and 'ad the good weather, oui?”
Her head dipped forward emphatically, tilting gently with each buoyant inflection that passed her smile. “I think you must allow the bad to move further into the past, without looking back to the clouds.” She was no poet, but the analogy seemed quite fitting for his situation, and she only felt further validated to share it by the storms that raged outside. How much more would she appreciate the sun afterwards? It would be a shame to let the wreckage, something that would surely litter the streets, darken her mood with memories of the storm that caused the disarray –it had already gone, passed.
The past was such a sensitive subject for many, a worrying number of souls, in her opinion, but she at least tried to help the vague situation with equally vague advice. The woman reclined back into the couch with a shrug, looking at him apologetically, for she knew no other answers to give. Maybe he had already tried, for all she knew, but she could hardly call herself a friend without attempting to help him fell his demons.
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