The question was... what does Ethea want?
Soren turned it over for a mont, then accepted that he had no answer. He had been living in the sa house as this woman for weeks now, had cooked for her every day, had sat across from her at every al, and he still didn’t know sothing as basic as what she enjoyed.
That was a problem worth fixing.
He waited until Ethea woke on her own, and once they had settled into breakfast, he set down the spoon and looked at her.
"Hey."
Ethea glanced at him.
"I was thinking of taking you out today." He kept his tone casual, like it was sothing he had only just thought of rather than sothing he had been sitting with since dawn. "Anywhere you’d want to go?"
Ethea’s hand, which had been moving slowly toward her bowl, stilled for just a mont.
She looked at him with an expression that was hard to read: not quite surprise, but sothing adjacent to it, like a question she hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure how to answer.
A few seconds passed.
"...Outside is fine," she said quietly.
Soren looked at her for a beat longer.
She wasn’t going to give him more than that, and he understood why. So he just picked the spoon back up and nodded.
"Alright. Leave it to then."
’Guess I still have to choose the place myself.’
He let the thought pass without dwelling on it and picked up his spoon again. They ate in silence for a mont before he spoke again, keeping his tone the sa, unhurried way.
"Do you prefer quiet places? Or sowhere with a bit of people around?"
Ethea glanced at him briefly. "...Quiet."
"Got it." He nodded, filing that away. "What about colors? Do you have a favorite?"
Ethea paused.
’...’
She frowned faintly, suspicion flickering through her gaze.
"...Why are you asking these?" She muttered.
"Well-" Soren opened his mouth, then closed it.
He set the spoon down again and scratched the back of his neck.
"Well... It’s because..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Because I realized that... that I don’t know anything about you."
"We’ve been married for a while now, and I cook for you every day, I’m with you every day, and yet... I know almost nothing about you."
Ethea blinked in surprise. She studied Soren more closely, trying to find any sign of mockery or a hidden motive, but his expression stayed sincere.
"I do not know what you like," he continued, his voice grounding the sudden tension in the room. "I do not know what you dislike. I do not know what makes you happy or what makes you sad. So yeah, that’s why I am asking."
He moved closer, positioning himself face-to-face with her. His eyes held hers steadily, radiating a sincere and quiet intensity that kept her from looking away.
"Ethea... I want to know more about you."
"!"
Ethea’s heart stopped.
Not literally. But it felt that way. One mont it was beating normally, and the next it just... seized. Frozen in her chest like everything else in her body had been frozen for months.
Then it started again. Faster. Harder. Pounding against her ribs like it was trying to break free.
She could feel the heat rising up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. Her face was burning. She knew it must be red, probably bright red, and she could not do anything to stop it. She could not look away. His eyes held her in place, steady and warm and so completely sincere that it made her chest ache.
No one had ever looked at her like that.
No one had ever said those words to her.
Not the nurses who had cared for her body but never asked about her heart. Not the attendants who had bathed her, dressed her, and treated her like furniture that happened to breathe. Not her own family, who had sent money but never visited, who had called her condition unfortunate and then gone back to their lives.
...No one.
But Soren was sitting here, face to face with her, asking about her favorite color as if it mattered. Like she mattered.
’...Gulp.’
Her throat tightened. Her eyes stung, but she blinked the feeling away. She would not cry. Not now. Not in front of him.
She tried to speak, but her voice would not co. The words were stuck sowhere deep, tangled up in the knot of emotions she had not felt in years.
So she just stared at him.
At his eyes, which had not left hers. At his face, which held no impatience, no frustration, no sign that he regretted asking. He was just... waiting. Giving her ti. Letting her sit with his words and decide what to do with them.
The silence stretched, but it was not uncomfortable. Not like the silences she was used to, the ones that said people had given up on waiting for her to respond. This silence was different. This silence said I am here. Take your ti...
Ethea’s heart was still racing. Her cheeks must still be burning.
But underneath the heat and the speed and the overwhelming rush of sothing she could not na, there was sothing else.
Sothing soft. Sothing warm. Sothing that felt a lot like hope.
Sothing she had not felt in a very long, long ti.
"...Blue."
Finally, the word ca out of her mouth, barely above a whisper. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard it.
But Soren nodded.
"Blue," he repeated, his voice gentle. "It makes think of the sky when the sun is long gone but the night hasn’t turned black yet. It is a soft color, but it feels strong, too. Like it can hold a lot of weight without breaking." He nodded to himself, his tone earnest. "It is truly beautiful."
As he spoke, he focused on her again. He went quiet for a heartbeat, his brow lifting in a silent ’oh’ as he compared the thought to the woman sitting in front of him.
"Just like your eyes, actually."
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