When he came back so suddenly, it took Adrian a while to adjust; he isn't there, yet. Truth be told, he feels quite lonely. There's no one in the room to keep him company - he doesn't even remember that Natalie used to live with him, that they used to be happy and make love and have fun here, in that very room. A feeling, he does get. A gut feeling
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"It's a beautiful evening, isn't it? A night like something out of a song," she says, in a gentle soprano voice with a slight British accent.
Potential donor alert >.> Mag doesn't mind being nibbled on.
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Twilight is Adrian's favourite time of the day, particularly when he feels rested enough. Presently it's the case. He comes to a halt from his aimless stroll, impressed by the appearance of the lady who looks a lot like what his grandmother used to when she was young and highly courted.
"It depends on the song," he says pleasantly. "If it accompanies a story, it's even better."
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He wonders if it's a name or a title; in all honesty he's had enough with nobility at this point.
"The idea of a concert sounds lovely, though. Do you know anything more?"
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No explanations. As a handler of Spirit, Adrian bases many of his remarks on gut feelings and intuition.
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