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[h3][color=e03c31]Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II[/color][/h3][/center]
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Marcy’s expression was perhaps a confusing one, as she regarded Dallas chewing on every aspect of the question. At first, he did what he was born to do, turn a question into an Oscar-award worthy monologue detailing such normalcies as dealing ADHD medication in a popular coffee chain bathroom. But when Marcy watched his cobalt-blue eyes roll up to the back of his head as she realized he’d have to give a genuine answer for her to be satisfied a smile crept upon her lips.

The fork collided with her nose, but didn’t leave before she could give it a quick peck. She purposefully looked at the fork rather than Dallas and mouthed ‘call me’ to it before letting her eyes roll back over to Apollo’s spitting image sitting across from her.

[color=e03c31]“Who, me?”[/color] She asked, a faux-shocked expression happily adorned by her. [color=e03c31]“The highlight of my year, three references? My, my. So many choices? Who wouldn’t hotly anticipate our annual drive-in date night? But then, perhaps we’ll be so lucky as to see Rhea get drunk enough to do karaoke to the Canadian national anthem for a fourth straight year? I suppose you’d also be obligated to put in some kind of bid towards Jonas’ big fight of the year. The one he [i]really[/i] goes all out in. You know just gives it his all? But highlight?”[/color] Her tongue clicked as she purposefully averted her gaze, staring down at her now empty plate. She returned to meet Dal’s gaze after a heartbreakingly long five seconds. [color=e03c31]“I don’t know, what’re you up to in twenty minutes?”[/color]