Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh gosh, look at that! Look at that look at that look at that, gosh gosh gosh! Freckles! Blushing freckles! Is that not the cutest thing [i]ever?[/i] Objectively, no. It's around number 87 maybe? Between "kitten falling face first into a bowl of cream" and Eliza Dragorovich's pink nail polish. But still! That's really precious! And oh! The look on Ms. Curl's face! It's so great when somebody lets themselves be so obviously smitten like that. You go girl, get that cutie! Just be careful; statistics show that 67% of first dates centered around freckle kissing end in breakup after only three weeks. Conversely if you stave off temptation until the third meeting, the relationship results in stable, ultra-cuddle class marriage in roughly 52% of cases! Hey, sneer all you want but data doesn't lie! Also, something something blah blah blah the subtle sting of jealousy who could ever be the one to bring light into my world of shadows why is it always them and not me. Yawn. You build up a tolerance to the stock reactions pretty quickly with enough exposure, it's cool. Also it turns out you need to have a heart to feel heart[i]ache[/i], so, you know. Yeah. Let's just take this second and by happy for-- Oh shoot! Whoops! Notes notes notes, get back to documenting this phenomenon! Remember, Dulci? If you're not doing science, it's called stalking. Fan to notebook transformation sequence: go! Dulcinea's floppy, badly abused notebook flops back down onto her table next to her ice cream with a noisy clatter. She uses her suddenly spare hand to pull out her phone and snap a picture for her archives, then drops that and fishes a big fountain pen out of her bag. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth a little bit as she writes, like it tends to do when she's concentrating really hard. [u]wlw[/u] [u]mlm[/u] [u]wlm[/u] ||||| ||||| ||||| ||| ||| || "...Huh! Wonder if that means anything?" She taps the pen to her lips a couple of times in idle contemplation before frowning suddenly. She glances skyward through her sodden bangs, and sighs. "You know, there's such a thing as doing your job too well. Not for [i]me[/i], but... some people. Hint hint up there!" With a groan, she drags herself out of her chair. One step forward, pause. Double back, and a looooong drag of her iced coffee. The poor ice cream's a lost cause at this point. Or, well, it's [i]not[/i], but it's a project unto itself to rescue the stuff and as has previously been mentioned, the heat. Some other time, some other five dollars. Preferably someone else's. She sets the cup down on top of her notebook and shuffles off precisely two tables over. "Hi there! Don't mind me, I'm from the... well never mind it doesn't... hm. I'll just be a, nnnrgh! A minute, I've just... ooogh! Got to... fffffllllrble, why do they make these so [i]nnnf![/i] stubborn! Eeeep!" Dulcinea tumbles backwards onto her butt, but flashes a tiny smile when she sees the table's umbrella opened up over the happy couple. She lifts both of her hands up and waves off their looks with dismissive little wiggles (mantis style!). "Ok, as you were, as you were. I was never here. Oh, but if one of you could tell me how you think things are going in about..." she glances up at the sun, then down at her phone, "eeeeeleven minutes an seventeen seconds? That'd be a huge... n-no, no, as you were."