me, a hag, holding hands with my royal lover who snuck out to walk me through the palace gardens as i leave a trail of slime behind us: *low-level humming*
my lover, enamored with my swampy hair: your hand is kind of moist. is it because of the humidity you’re bringing with us?
me, embarrassed: *humming abruptly stops*
my lover, squeezing my moist hand apologetically: no babe it’s okay! i was just wondering if you were nervous, you can stay humid if you want to, i know it’s good for the ferns
me, tentatively: *resumes low-level humming*
my lover, staring at the moon reverently and kissing my left ring finger knuckle in a foreshadowing romantic gesture: what a beautiful night