Rating: all audiences
Rita hadn't realized just much she'd fallen.
“Five years,” he murmured, fiddling with her hand in his. The dry skin, the heart lines, the small, delicate ring. He twisted it, almost thoughtfully, as if it could speak. “Who'd have thought?” he proposed again, and Rita was voiceless.
What could change in five years, she asked herself? What did that question even mean?
“...What do ya think? Figure we'll survive another five?”
She tapped his knee softly. “Stupid... Can you even last that long?” and Raven's smile remained infinitely considerate, forever scandalous.
“Hon', you tell me...”