[b]Tuesday, Spring 2nd[/b]
[i]Forget-Me-Not Valley[/i]
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[i]He sure has an odd way of speaking,[/i] Clara mentally noted in silent reply to his long winded response. Externally, however, she just remained silent, her expression mimicking a confused puppy, complete with the slightest tilt of the head. She assumed that what he said wasn't a bad thing, for his crooked smile had assured her so. If she were an animal, Clara's ears would be flat against her head as she felt her anxiety begin to dry from it's alcohol-soaked state. She returned with a small, almost nervous smile as her head straightened back, though she seemed to shrink ever so slightly as she looked back up at the slightly taller stranger. 

Clara hadn't noticed it before, but being so close to the stranger, she noticed that the stranger's eyes weren't the colour of anyone she has met or even seen before - from a distance, she assumed that his eyes were a deep blue, but up close she realized that they were instead violet. Never had she been so intrigued over a part of someone, but she couldn't help but wonder what had resulted in the man's eye being such a beautiful colour. [i]Was he born that way? Did something happen to make it happen? Did he mind being so different?[/i]

Clara was torn out from her mental questioning by a sudden question from the stranger in question: [i]Peaches or Pears?[/i] Clara was dumbfounded for it was such an odd question to ask out of the blue, but of course she was inclined to answer. She didn't have to think about the answer, for due to her allergy to peaches, she answered in a heartbeat, "Pears." She gave a slight nod with her answer, almost as if she were proud of her it. Well, she did like pears, but it wasn't up there with her favourite fruit - melons and strawberries were her favourite. 

Clara wanted to ask him on what his decision between the two were, but she was cut off by her boss, Griffin who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Miss Clara, I hate to interrupt, but I believe your shift is over. It's late; You should probably go home and rest." And with that and a scruff of her hair later, Griffin was gone again. Clara pouted as she straightened and pat her hair down with her hands, grumbling, "I hate when he does that..." But she supposed he was right, working so late into the night, even though tonight's shift was a bludge and celebratory, did take it's toll on her at times. She wanted to stay and talk to the stranger more, but when Griffin says something, it'd be in your best interest to listen.

After a silent huff, she looked back up to the purple-eyed stranger with a smile. "Well, I hope to see you again," she said before turning on her heel and heading for the exit. She was speaking true, for the stranger did indeed intrigue her, but she couldn't help but wonder when, if she was even going to, see him again.