She sighs, looking down at the ring. “So I guess you don’t want this, since you don’t know me, and you’re being very stiff about it, too.”
A frown crosses his features. “I never said I didn’t,” he tells her simply, crossing one leg over the other. He glances away. “I’m not used to compliments, that is all, please, take a seat, I’m sure if we got to know each other more-” he trails off, “unless you don’t want to.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to,” Summer says softly. She sits down as told, watching his face with a slightly sad expression on hers. “I very much want to, Mordred. Will you — will you tell me about yourself? I only know your name.”