[It hasn't quite faded for her yet, at least not quite so suddenly, and she can't help feeling distinctly displaced. She eyes him suspiciously, awkwardness beginning to settle over her despite her silent protests.]
Do you think it might come over you again?
[Even she's not sure if it's an invitation or an attempt to forearm herself. Briefly, she glances upwards.
no subject
Do you think it might come over you again?
[Even she's not sure if it's an invitation or an attempt to forearm herself. Briefly, she glances upwards.
Oh. Mistletoe?]