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Lily kicks up leaves with her feet, the crunch of a hundred different colors following the delighted motion, and Malleus smiles small beneath his scarf when her gaze flicks up to meet his. ‘Cute,’ he thinks but doesn’t say, yet Lily seems to follow the line of his thoughts anyway, and she slides up to him with a grin and bumps her shoulder against his. Malleus holds out an arm, Lily slides her gloved hand through the crook in his elbow, and the two of them continue to walk a moment later, the autumn afternoon a gorgeous backdrop to what Malleus thinks must surely constitute a date.
The leaves are vibrant, complementing Lily’s dust-pink hair and cream-colored coat, and she tucks herself into his side as though she’s never found a place that she belongs to more—her other hand coming up to rest flat against his bicep. Malleus feels out of body, as though he doesn’t quite know where to put his other limbs or how to moderate his step, yet Lily is warm against him and the crinkle of leaves beneath their boots is a constant that he can cling to in the moment. She’s cute, so unbelievably so, and as Malleus continues to watch her out of the corner of his eye—reveling in the way she continues to surreptitiously kick leaves as they walk—he feels his heart jump when she turns his way and smiles.
“You’re cute,” she tells him, and Malleus wants to tell her that’s his line, yet Lily squeezes his arm and continues to kick up leaves, and so Malleus—cheeks tinged just as pink as her hair—just keeps on walking.