It's the first day of Junior year and Idaia's feeling pretty good. She likes her classes so far, it's a beautiful day, and she just has an indescribable positive feeling. Her last class of the day has just let out and she has an entirely tolerable amount of homework.
Her phone rings.
"Hello?"
She takes two of his fingers and presses them against her wrist so he can feel her pulse.
"You two are still incredibly adorable. And slightly sad. Like a confection cut through with just enough bitterness to make it rich instead of overpoweringly sugary. Only less edible."
And Gloria would like to drag them off for painting-related purposes, now that they're available again. She's finally accepted that painting the Silmarils is--not impossible, she hasn't given up--but not the sort of thing she's probably going to be able to brute-force just by trying a lot of times. She would like to see if she can accomplish the lesser feat of painting someone or something that happens to have a Silmaril shedding light on it.
He will sit still and hug his wife. This seems like a great activity, actually, at least until he gets distracted by kissing her.
Gloria makes an annoyed sound when this happens. "Can you finish that quickly and then go back to the position you were in?"
Good. And eventually Gloria is done with the part that requires them but would Idaia please leave the illusion-Silmarils here and maintain them for a while so she can paint other things in their presence.
Well, that's about as well as anyone can be expected to take the end of the world.
I think she wishes she could do something and I'm pretty sure she'll help if we think of a way for her to but she's not the type to dwell on things she can't change.
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