Viola can feel his eyes on her. She's always felt at ease under Aris' gaze, a rarity and a gift, but just now she's overwhelmed by an electric current of anticipation. Her cheeks flush beneath her freckles and her heartbeat flutters in her chest. It's a pleasant sensation, like fingertips being traced over bare skin.

She nods along with him as he speaks. People like to tell Viola that she's good with words, which is funny because it seems to her that it's Aris who is always finishing her sentences and finding the exact right thing to say. She slips the thimble into the pocket of her trousers and turns her knees toward him, leans close. "Tell me," she urges, eager to get to the 'doing.'