{Truly, nothing beats the comforts of home. Isn't that right?}
{He should ask Riza. She'd probably like to be home right now, no? He should have tucked her head away under his arm. Brought her to his home, at least. Fed her sweets and spoke warmly to her of his successes
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[The couch, however, is lovely.]
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They're dead, my dear. There is no bedside, and no use for the applicable mannerisms anymore. Only acceptance and an offer to comfort those affected.
{Thanks. Ikea, baby.}
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Which I recall also left something to be desired.
[As the nonhuman judges the human for not being ....yeah.]
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And who, pray tell, am I meant to entice? I do what I do, my dear. You're free to react how you will. It's not my problem.
{YEAH.}
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And what you do could be done with a song and a smile. So what if they're lies as long as they give comfort?
[A grudge. No, she is not holding it, why do you ask?]
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You've answered your own question.
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