Page 74 of The Gathering
She smiled gently and nodded with an innocent guilt. “I like knowing things about people that aren’t my business. It’s one of my vices. I’m nosy to a fault, honest to a fault, trusting to a fault, and…” She squinted, trying to recall.
“Pretty to a fault?”
She instantly sobered, eyes locking on his before jerking her whole body to the stove. “No,” she said quietly.
“Disagree,” he muttered, grinning at how that affected her. “Modest to a fault? Selfless to a fault? Giving to a fault?”
She giggled and looked at him. “Those are all virtues,” she informed, finding that funny.
“Ever hear of too much of a good thing?”
She smiled again, like he was peculiar but fun. “Maybe.”
“Too much sun, too much water, too much cake.”
“Yes. I see what you mean,” she conceded, angling her gaze at the air in thought. “All things in moderation,” she adjusted, her smile and nods back on him. “What’syourgreatest vice?”
He studied her. “We still veering?”
She again nodded with that barely smile as if knowing she was safe to go off course with him. Fuck, he loved that. Should he tell hershewas his vice? Probably not. She’d likely argue that she’s his virtue. Both were true.
He focused. Vices. Greatest one. Before her, he’d never have picked it. “Isolation.”
She was quiet and he looked at her, finding her in a deep pondering, brows drawn. “Why?”
Her pure curiosity made it easy to answer. “Probably fear of connecting.”
She stared at him, her gaze so fucking open he wanted to dive in. “It is very terrifying,” she whispered then suddenly looked at the stove.
He stared at her profile, wondering what was in her mind about it. “Can I ask you questions now?”
She snapped out of whatever held her and faced him with excitement.
“Oh, you like answering nosy questions?” he checked, getting her adamant nods.
“I love sharing myself with people.”
Yeah. The plurality problem.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“The ocean!”
He laughed. “The ocean has many colors.”
“Yes! All of them.”
Fucking precious. “Favorite food?”
“Same as you!”
“Least favorite?”
She scrunched up her face. “Liver,” she exclaimed with animated shudders of disgust.
“Age?” he remembered.
“Twenty-eight!” she said, clasping her hands together, smile on full blast.
