Emma meets a friendly neighborhood architect
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"Most things in life are optional if you're sufficiently stubborn," he says cheerfully. "Also, I'm a bad influence and you shouldn't listen to me."

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"Well, uh, listening to my parents got me a fancy party and a stupid dress, and listening to you got me cheese tarts and a pretty library," she points out. "So far you win."

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"I suppose that's true. Good for me. I have no idea how I'll keep it up."

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"Oh, please don't, I don't need more advice in my life," Emara shudders. "Spontaneous architecture is far superior."

Time to go, before the fallout from her absence gets any worse. When they reach the door, she eyes her shoes crankily, contemplates on the (well maintained) state of the neighborhood, and takes them off after all. She's got at least another hour in them at the party, she'll spare herself. "It was really nice meeting you, Sekar. Thank you for the tour of the library!" The phrases come with a much larger, more genuine smile than her Society Phrases usually do, but just in case, she adds, "Definitely a vast improvement on my original plans."

...is he a hug person? She has had a nice enough time that she would normally hug someone goodbye (not that this happens often, in her social circle.) She can attempt a hug, she supposes- as long as it's a one armed hug, given her other hand is occupied with shoes.

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He giggles at 'vast improvement'. So she can have a giggly hug.

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Awww that's pretty cute. Giggles may occur on both sides of this hug.

"If you're ever in the Merchant District, I'm usually in the café on Highbrook after work," she adds. "Hopefully I'll see you around?"

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"I'd like that!"

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"Me too."

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Emara's mother does not in fact scold her when she returns to the party, but only because that would cause a Scene. (Emara can't tell if she's just ignoring the earlier Scenes that were Emara's dress and their argument in the gardens, or if she's legitimately blocked them from her mind.) It's once they're home, therefore, that Emara is read the riot act. She sits quietly and makes apologetic noises in the correct places and says the things her mother wants to hear and does not talk back. She's left with the simultaneous impression that obviously the party was a Rare Chance at Success which she forfeited by leaving the party, and that she was a Shameful Embarrassment in her socially inappropriate clothes. Pointing out the contradiction will not help her case. Pointing out that her mother selected the dress will definitely not help her case. She says nothing.

Her father hadn't noticed her departure. When his mildly hysterical wife appeals to him for backup, Emara gets a much shorter lecture complete with his disapproving face and his favorite question, "what will people think?" She does not talk back. She is conciliatory and obedient. She's clearly in their bad graces for the foreseeable future, but she manages to skate by without much in the way of actual punishment.

She usually stops by Grove Café once or twice a week, but this week she decides she'll up it to three. Sekar was friendly and entertaining and seemed just as deeply unimpressed with her parents as she is, which makes him a vast improvement over most of her social circle pretty much by definition. Grove is cute and surprisingly small, for all it's on a main street, but if she times it right she can grab one of the smaller tables in the back and curl up with a drink and a book for an hour or two. Today's book is a selection of children's fairy tales in Riverish; she can justify reading cute fluff if she tells herself it's language practice.

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And there he is! Approaching her table with a cup of fruit tea and a little round pastry.

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She doesn't spot him quite instantly, but she goes to turn a page, looks up for her drink and spots him approaching. "Sekar! Hi!"

(He came! He actually came! She made a friend all by herself!)

The tables don't come in one-person sizes; there's an empty seat across from her. "Would you like to sit?" she asks, nodding at the chair.

(It's probably a stupid question. It's definitely a stupid question. Right? He's not here by accident... probably... he did come because she mentioned it? Argh. She's overthinking this. It's just a chair.)

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He sits.

"Hi! How's the book?"

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She blinks at it for a second. "...fluffy," she decides.

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—he giggles.

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"They're fairy tales! I'm not reading them for, uh," she flails her hands a bit, "deep and meaningful content, or whatever. Just wanted something easy in Riverish."

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"It's just very cute hearing somebody call a book fluffy!" he says.

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Aaaah he called her cute what does she do. MOVING RIGHT ALONG.

"Well, I stand by my ridiculous adjective," she says instead. "How have you been?"

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"Pretty good! You?"

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"Work is.... well. Work," she says, somewhat crankily. "You know, normally confusion arises when we don't all speak the same language, but I wasn't even translating! Apparently the phrase 'we do not have an office in that province' is beyond comprehension and must be repeated six times."

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He giggles.

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She's not exactly used to grown men doing something she would call 'giggling', but it seems to be his thing and it's pretty adorable, so, why not? But if he's not going to hold up his end of the conversation she is going to lean on Small Talk, and, well, she'll probably sound like an idiot eventually but it will still be so very much better than awkward silence. "What about you, anything new in the world of architecture?"

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