Edwin
When you're a nurse in Briar Ridge, it wasn't often you'd get to step outside and take a deep breath of that cool air. The days were gettin' warmer but the nights still felt nice and cool, even as the moon rose up in the distance. It was that perfect moment, as the sun was disappearing and the world got all pink and purple and grey in the sky. 

Lorelai had a rare moment to breathe tonight. Maybe it was because of the recent events, or maybe it was just the look on her face and the fact that she might be getting grey hairs— but Nathaniel had ushered her right out the door and told her to take a walk; suck in some cool air for an hour or two, and get some rest. She had argued and huffed and crossed her arms, but the doctor had seemed intent that she had been working herself to the bone since the full moon. 

So, she'd washed up at home and set about taking that well-deserved stroll. She wasn't used to it; taking in the world around her lately had been done through the windows of their little doctors ward, and she didn't mind it. She often walked through the square with her eyes half closed, prepared to drop into bed half dressed from the doorway, and pass out for the next few hours. 

But she felt a little more awake today; she took in the sight of children playing in the last bits of light. People bringing in their things from outside, fires being lit in houses and casting warm glows on their windowpanes. 

She came to a stop at a wooden bench, which she took to sit down and sigh. The world could be beautiful when you didn't think about all the bad things around it. And Lorelai also couldn't help but think how lonely it could be, too. Families, couples, friends. Maybe she worked too hard. Maybe that was it. 

Lorelai did, however, see one person alone. She sat up a little straighter and flattened out her dress as she gave a subtle wave to the woman; just a mild greeting with bashfulness tacked on the edges. "Miss Templeton," She said.

She rested her hands in her lap afterward, worrying a loose thread on her dress. Carina Templeton — the last time she'd tried to speak to her, she'd gotten little response. Following the death of Mrs. Bigby, she'd tried to check in. The woman had barely answered the door. Understandable; from the way the woman had posted up at the side of the woman's bed, she came to understand that they had something of a familial relationship. She could understand that heartache; to lose someone you loved that much. 

But now, she could see that Carina had not wasted away, as she'd feared. "How're you this evenin'?" She asked her. She hoped she wasn't intrudin' on her night. How terrible that would be.
Kevin
Now that Carina shared her home with another, she needed to get more creative with how she found her time alone. For a few weeks after Lily's arrival, Carina would stay late at the general store, hiding up in her old apartment and sometimes even cooking herself dinner there. After a while, she got fed up with herself, wondering why she'd even bothered moving out to the old Baker house at all if she was just going to be squatting back here in an abandoned apartment. The next day after this realization, she put an advertisement out on the town notice board to rent out the shop apartment, keeping herself from fleeing to her old sanctuary. 

Next, she tried sequestering herself to her bedroom, but quickly grew bored of the confinement. After attempting to remain in the common areas of the home in the evenings for a few nights straight, she became intolerant of waiting for Lily to either appear or not appear. The anxiety of the guesswork involved in this approach was exhausting. So, she began to take walks. Now that the weather was warming up, she found this to be the best solution to being active, alone, and unbothered by social obligations. 

These walks reminded her of the days she'd first arrived to Briar Ridge: getting used to all the strange outside noises at night, having staring contests with the empty darkness near the treeline. It had felt romantic and mysterious then. Somewhere along the way she'd lost that curiosity of flirting with the void of night, distracted by her new responsibilities at the general store, and her budding kinship with Mrs. Bigby. Now though, she was free to rebuild her courtship with the stars and lightning bugs, even allowing herself a smile each time an owl spoke up, or when the choruses of peeper frogs swelled at the edges of the river. 
_ _

Tonight's stroll led her through town. Some evenings she had a strange unconscious urge to see other people out and about. Even the ambiguous shadow of a passing teenager would meet her quota for vague companionship. As she heard her name sound out from beneath the oak tree in the square, though, she frowned to be receiving more attention than she had bargained for. 

Lorelai Roswell beckoned with a wave from the bench a few feet away. At first, Carina thought to return the wave and keep on her route, but her recent run in with Dimitra had inspired what might be identified as a streak of compassion in Carina's cold heart. She could recall her last couple interactions with the nurse, and in each one of them, Carina acknowledged to herself that she'd been far from cordial. Perhaps she owed Miss Roswell a handful of pleasantries. 

"Miss Roswell." Carina tipped her head, pausing slightly before stepping her way over to the bench. She didn't waste any breath asking to join her; she just sat down, with a healthy space between them. She looked out at the empty square and sighed. 
"Why, I'm alright." She offered, glancing down at her feet and pausing a moment, "I'm sorry I was a bit short the last time you came calling for me. It's... Nice to see you again." The apology was a struggle, and the compliment (if you could call it that) was moreso. It was all she could afford for the moment, not thinking to ask after Lorelai's health or mental state, even given the recent bloody string of events, of which Carina was well aware. She was abundantly self-centered in that way, how it took everything she had to volunteer a simple human greeting, and at the end had no energy left to search the situation for anything she'd forgotten to address. 
_ _
Edwin
She hadn't expected Carina to stop, nor had she expected her to come over and strike up conversation. From the impressions she'd had of Carina Templeton, she didn't seem like someone who liked to make idle chit-chat. In fact, the few times Lorelai had tried to do so at the general store, she was sure the pleasantries had made Carina uncomfortable. Perhaps that wasn't the right word either— but it looked like she had bugs under her skin, eyebrows knit together and disgruntled. 

It hadn't been much better at all when Mrs. Bigby had passed. She knew Carina had mourned the woman, and she didn't deny her the chance to be upset and angry at the world. People dealt with their grief differently; which was why Lorelai hadn't been upset when her attempts at checking in afterward had gone unanswered or clipped. Carina had been dealing with so much— she'd seen worse in her life than a woman with a little bit of anger under her skin. 

So Carina's seat beside her and her subsequent apology took her by surprise. Lorelai looked at her out of the corner of her eye before she twisted, turning her body more to face her. "It's nice t' see you again too," She said, and Lorelai tilted her head a bit. The setting sun was lowering and that moon was coming slowly, casting a glow on the outline of Carina's elegant face. Lorelai didn't know much about her, but she knew she wasn't from here— she carried herself different, she seemed so much more... *Refined*, all around. Even the way she sat— Lorelai fixed her sitting position to be a little more like it, even. 

"Everyone deals with these things differently," She said with a clearing of her throat. Her eyes went back out to the world, searching the landscape. "Some people cry and some people get real mad. And some people... Just rather feel nothin' at all." Lorelai chewed her lip a moment before she paused and pushed her hand into her pocket to retrieve the folded up handkerchief. "I made cookies," She said to her.

She unfolded the embroidered handkerchief and revealed those sugar cookies, holding out the square to her to share. She even slid a little closer on the bench so they could share easier. "You can have as many as you'd like, I got plenty more at home," She assured her. "I been so anxious because of everything... I don't know what to do with myself when I got free time. If I don't do somethin', I'll start starin' at the wall and thinking of the worst." She bit into a cookie with a snap and chewed slowly.
Kevin
Hearing her "Compliment" Echoed back to her, Carina felt the struggle anew. It wasn't a lie, though. She was glad, she supposed, for the chance to make a better impression on Lorelai from the last time she'd seen her. She wondered if the nurse meant it. Was she truly glad to share a bench with a woman who'd previously been so sour towards her? Carina crossed her arms– not for any feelings of reproach, simply because it was her default comfort station. 

She could feel Lorelai looking at her, and kept her eyes trained ahead on the sleepy street, watching a few kids come out to light the gas lamps to answer the quickening blanket of darkness. Carina made sure her posture was right: shoulders back, chin level, spine straight. She only looked back over at Lorelai as the other woman faced forward again. This wasn't the first time Carina had studied her. She'd found ample time to watch the nurse from the corner of her eye while Lorelai was working in the doctor's ward. Holding Mrs. Bigby's hand, Carina's attention had roamed from her mentor many times to the sweet smiling face of Miss Roswell; her gentle eyes and pretty pursed lips were a constant source of distraction from mourning. Naturally, she had resented her for being *So pretty* While Carina was noblely busy trying to be solemn at the bedside of Mrs. Bigby. 

Now that the worst of her grief storm had blown over, and Lorelai was not so closely stitched into the fabric of hospital linens and the smell of iodine, she was even prettier a thing to be distracted by. Carina forgot to look away before Lorelai's attention was back on her, which caused a slight heat to rise to her cheeks. 

Too busy thinking of Lorelai's lovely little upturned nose, and the neatly woven arrangement of dark hair that framed her delicate face, Carina conveniently forgot to get angry at the nurse's commentary on grief. Even so, as Carina played Lorelai's words back to try and summon some indignation, a stack of cookies was produced. 
_ _

Still silent, Carina took two treats without hesitation, stealing them back to herself with the protective manner of a scared mouse. 

"These are delicious," Carina commented, unable to withhold praise over a delicious thing, mouth impolitely full. Against Lorelai's polite chewing, Carina crunched loudly, reaching for a third cookie while the second was still unbitten in her hand. 

Eating the second just marginally slower, Carina realized that, unfortunately, conversation was the payment she owed for the sweets. She swallowed and winced. 

"The hospital must be one of the most unpleasant places in town, as of late." Nice one. She realized her blunder, and cleared her throat, "It's important work you do, Miss Roswell. And it's good to have outlets, too. We mustn't dwell on what pains us." There. She wasn't sure she'd completely mended the situation, but it was good enough to afford her another bite of cookie. 
_ _
Edwin
She was truly delighted to see someone take some enjoyment in her cooking. Ever since her weaselly cousin had up and took off from her place, she hadn't had many people to share with. She still contemplated renting out her spare room, especially since she'd heard that there was a nice lady living on down by the creek with her horse. But for now, she was very content to watch Carina greedily snatch up the cookies, biting into them with a hastiness she wasn't sure she could begin to match. She caught herself smiling, and Lorelai had to force herself to look away a moment for fear of staring too long. 

"I'm glad you like 'em. Old family recipe," She explained, cheeks a soft pink color. She was bashful about it, and in all honesty, she hadn't expected anything in return aside from Carina's silent companionship. However, she was certainly not one to turn down a lovely little conversation, even when the subject matter turned out to be less than savory. 

However, Carina's phrasing did make Lorelai laugh. It was a soft bubble in the back of her throat that carried off, making her tip her head to the side as she tried to stifle it down to a giggle behind her hand. Perhaps it was the sheer honesty of Carina in this situation, no sugar coating aside from the loose sugar that stuck to the woman's fingertips. Lorelai could bet that Carina might be good at piano or something, with elegant hands like that. Maybe she had really nice penmanship; something of that nature. She could only believe that God himself had crafted hands like that for purposes of making something beautiful. 

Or maybe, much like the rest of Carina herself, she had been crafted to be looked at. Lorelai could imagine it; she had a pretty face, beautiful posture, an elegantly curved spine and all. 

But back to the conversation - Lorelai lifted her gaze to Carina's, full of warmth as she giggled again. "Unpleasant... Yeah, I'd say that about fits the bill." She bit down on her lip to keep herself from laughin

G. "You're right. It's best not to dwell on all'athat." Lorelai looked to the darkening world around them and just smiled a moment, before she chimed back in. "I could make you more." A pause. "Cookies. I could make more and bring 'em, if you'd like that." Lorelai twisted her fingers into the fabric of the handkerchief a little. "But feel free t' take the rest home."
Kevin
Carina whipped her head to Lorelai as she stifled a giggle, her eyes fractionally narrowed. What was so funny? She swallowed her healthy mouthful of crumbs and stilled to watch the woman's next move, seconds from bidding Lorelai a hasty goodnight, unable to sit with her discomfort in having embarrassed herself by saying something daft. But oh– Lorelai was agreeing? Finally, Carina remembered that of course, laughter could come from more sources than contempt. She settled back down and took another bite, staring vacantly ahead as she attempted to process her own reaction. 

The only peace she could make with herself in the moment was that she needed to find calm. Just as pain wasn't for dwelling, neither was meaningless upset. Neither was a wound to her pride, she reasoned. After all, most attacks on her ego originated in her own head. This instance was much the same. Carina sighed, coming down from an emotional odyssey, hidden from Lorelai in all ways besides the time Carina took to answer her offer. 

"That would be lovely. I admit to having quite the sweet tooth." She finally said, her voice dulled and softened– sweet, in itself. 

"I like to bake, too. Cook, more than bake, I suppose." Carina dabbed at her mouth, feigning politeness after such a feral display of devouring, "Do you know much of French cooking, Miss Roswell?"
Edwin
She was quite pleased with herself; Carina wanted her baking, and that made her quite happy, actually. She liked sharing these kinds of things with people, and there was nothing better than sharing these kinds of things with pretty girls like Carina Templeton. "Well then, I guess that about settles it, don't it?" She smiled wider, wrapping the handkerchief up around the leftover cookies and gently placing it down in Carina's lap. "Take those home with you when you go, okay? Then when ya finish those, you come 'round my place with my handkerchief, and get a fill up?" She raised an eyebrow, a smile quirking up the corner of her mouth even more. 

"Y'know, 'fraid I ain't know much about French food... 'cept a few recipes my brother has asked me t' make. He was stationed over in France durin' the war, and I was too for a lil while, but I was mostly in the hospitals. Lotta cheese and bread." Lorelai smoothed her hands over her dress to brush some crumbs off of it. "Mostly I make a lotta meat and potatoes... I like bakin' bread a whole lot." She was nervously fidgeting still, and she lifted her hand to her mouth to chew on the nails. Was that unpleasant? She dropped her hand again and exhaled in a rush. 

"Do you?" She asked, and realized the question seemed to come from nowhere. "Do you know much about French food, Miss Templeton?" Lorelai asked her then, her eyes flickering from Carina's face, to her elegant hands, and to the stack of cookies on her lap.
Kevin
Carina took her turn to fiddle with the edges of the handkerchief, now that it was within reach. Small acts of kindness like this took her quite a bit of effort to understand, but it was getting easier, and this act in particular was simple to wrap her head around: Lorelai was a good person with a good heart, and she wanted Carina to have cookies. For a moment, Carina considered that the other woman was demonstrating pity, making Carina out to be some kind of charity case. *Oh, poor thing, must still be grieving and weak—* But no. Anger felt misplaced here, crowded into her head all close and hot. There was no place for anger with Lorelai. Only... Gratitude. She nearly shivered at the prospect. 

"Thank you, Miss Roswell." She pronounced, looking over to the woman, her eyes betraying softness, rare as a comet when it came to Carina. 

She listened to Lorelai respond, but got caught up on the first half of what she'd said. She'd been stationed in France? In the war? The *Great* War? Carina paled, and didn't dare take her eyes from her company. *This* Woman, this sweet gentle woman, with the delicate smile, and the handkerchiefs of cookies, had been exposed to horrors on a scale magnitudes worse than werewolves. Carina's mouth went dry. She didn't realize she'd been asked a question, so busy was her mind in rearranging everything she thought she'd understood about Lorelai. 

"You were... In the war?" She asked, trouncing over any expected social decorum. You didn't just *Ask* People about their time in the war! —but Carina didn't know that. A few moments ago she'd wanted to tell Lorelai all about her silly little hobby of French cooking. How she'd gotten a silly little cookbook a few years ago and was teaching herself silly little French so she could read it and make *Silly little recipes*— oh *God!* What had Lorelai lived through? Carina moved just a hair closer to the woman, clutching the bundle of sweets in her lap like a life preserver. 
_ _
Edwin
She realized quickly that she'd lost Carina to her thoughts; the way her eyes got a little bit wider, like she was staring straight through the ground to uncover something hidden deep underneath the rocks and stones and worms. When the woman surfaced from her thoughts with a single question, it caught her off guard. No longer were they discussing food, but rather *War*, and that was something Lorelai was keenly knowledgeable on. 

"Only for the tail end of the war," She said, because Carina was curious and she had no trouble filling in the gaps for her. She didn't speak too much on her time in the war, but that wasn't for a particular reason of not wanting to. She just... Had no need. When she was alone, sometimes, she would recall those months and shiver and stuff them back down again, not eager to think about any of it. But Carina was asking, and Lorelai was answering, because... Well, how could she deny her just a few simple answers? 

"My brother— you know, Leroy? He was stationed there, in all the action." She turned more, facing Carina head-on now. "I was turnin' 18 and I thought... Well, I wanna help. I'd always wanted t' be a nurse and so I signed up, got shipped over on a boat." 

It had been a long journey. She'd never stepped foot outside Briar Ridge, and then she'd found herself in New York City, on a loading dock bustling with people, and then she was on a crowded boat, and then suddenly she was in *France*. It had been a bit of a change for her, to say the least. 

"I was in one of the hospitals— well, can't really call it a hospital, but that's what we called it. It was kinda like a big tent, and lots of cots. Right on the edge of the battlefield." She chewed her lip. "But I did some training in a big ol' building that used t' be a Girls School, but they done set up cots and all everywhere to house all the soldiers." 

This was probably the most Lorelai had ever spoken about her time— even to her family. It was all coming out like word vomit, now. 

She was

N't sure Carina wanted to hear all this, but it seemed like it was too late, now. "I knew it would be bad, but it was worse than I thought. It was... Muddy. And there was always blood in the mud, too. And men was dying right in front of me, yknow, missin' legs and missin' arms. Blown to bits by grenades. Cryin' for their wives, their kids. Worse ones were the kids ain't barely older than me at the time, cryin' for their mamas." She gave a weak sniff and realized, after a second, that a single tear had rolled down her face. She quickly wiped it away and fixed herself up proper, giving another little sniffle. "But we helped a whole hell a lot of people, too. Got people back up and into the fray and all... Lotta heroes." She said softly. "And a lotta wooden body boxes, too." She chewed her lip as she looked back to Carina now. "I'm sorry. I... You didn't ask me all that. I just never... I ain't ever talked about it before, I guess."
Kevin
Questions piled up behind Carina's eyes. What was New York City like? How had it been to take such a long boat ride? Did Lorelai get to see Paris? Did she learn any French? 

And then, as the nurse knelt deeper into her recollection, Carina's thoughts stilled and darkened. She'd always perceived the war as terrible, sure. But moreover, as it related to her, she'd seen it as a big European vacation for the men of her family to go and make business deals in bad conscience, eventually leading to the scattering of the Templetons to the winds, muddying her name in the only place she could have ever thought to call home. Richmond was miles and years away, now. Briar Ridge was home, and she had a new family here, in many ways closer and more precious to her than the one with which she shared her blood. Lorelai was already more significant in her life than any of Carina's own sisters had ever cared to be. 

Carina was fully turned to Lorelai now, having come even closer. One of her legs was tucked up under herself, her elbow slung over the back of the bench, her folded knee nearly brushing Lorelai's thigh. She was wrapt, her face a neat display of grief: of empathy! She didn't recognize this at first, wondering where the sadness and stress were originating from within herself, until she realized they were coming from Lorelai, instead. She let it happen. She didn't know that she'd ever felt this level of closeness with a person, and as terrifying as it was, it was new and exhilarating. It felt *Important*, and so Carina Templeton opened her heart and kept it open. 

Carina's right hand was on Lorelai's knee by the time the woman sniffed back her tears, her left hand dumping the cookies in her lap from the nurse's handkerchief and shaking out the crumbs. She offered it back to Lorelai, all without taking her attention off the woman. 
_ _

"It's amazing, Lorelai," Carina dropped the formal address for the first time, calling the woman by her first name, "What you did. All that you gave. Don't be sorry." Her voice was quiet, and something in her brain was coming up with more to say, suggestions like *Thank you for telling me,* And *You can talk about anything you'd like to,* But a person could only make so many social strides in one night. Those suggestions stayed buried like vague memories of distant dreams. 

Something tickled Carina's cheek, and her hand flashed up to brush it away, her fingers coming away wet. She found that she had shed a tear, as well. Her heart began to hammer. Where did she go from here? 

"*I'm* Sorry, I–" She tried to recover herself, to scurry back into the husk of the girl she'd been a few minutes ago. That body was no longer her home, and she was confused by the strange architecture. Still, she tried, but it was clear she was panicking. There was a watery smile on her face, blooming there as evidence of her conflict. 

"I said not five minutes ago that it doesn't do to dwell on unpleasantness." She chased her own tail, unable to contain her internal monologue. 
_ _
Edwin
It was funny— she was sad, she was stressed, and yet... She was momentarily amazed by Carina's nature. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen Carina be *Gentle* In her nature. No, she was sure she'd only ever seen her eyebrows set into a furrow, jaw set, shoulders rigid. It was like Carina liked to keep all her walls up, surrounding her heart like a fortress. For the first time, it seemed, Lorelai witnessed a hole blown through one of those walls, like a cannonball. She couldn't help but stare, and she took that handkerchief and so gently, she lifted her hand and wiped the remnants of wetness from Carina's cheek. 

"Don't apologize," She said, and her voice was soft and sweet, and above all, full of understanding. "You're right. We shouldn't dwell on the negative stuff. Ain't good for nobody involved, now is it?" Her knee was burning from where Carina had laid one of her elegant hands, and it was unfair how someone so beautiful could still look that way when she cried. 

She could see conflict all over her face, and she tilted her head to examine it. Carina did not handle her own emotions well, did she? It was fascinating— where Lorelai felt too much, perhaps Carina felt too little, but not in being cold. In protecting herself, perhaps? She wondered about her. 

"Do you know a lot about French cooking?" She asked her again, recalling her question from earlier. They were sitting so close now, but the blanket of darkness wrapped around them, and Lorelai didn't think there was anybody nearby to see them anyhow. "I picked up some French in the war, but only talkin', don't know much 'bout readin' it," She admitted. "I bet you'd be real good at learning French, Carina." A name for a name. It made her stomach feel a bit funny when she wrapped her tongue around the word. *Carina.*
Kevin
True, Carina's fortress had been breached. Rubble collected at the foot of the eastern wall, falling away from a Lorelai-sized hole in the stone. The woman herself appeared in the dust with her handkerchief and Carina did not flinch away from the motion. Alien gratitude swelled her ribcage, and then on its heels, resentment deflated her. Why should she be inspired to softness here and now, and by this person? Try as she might to summon it, her usual quickness to anger was dampened, to her horror. There was nothing here to be angry about, after all, and for once, Carina saw that fact and sat with it. It added a certain quiet to the darkening night. 

Lorelai was agreeing with her, moving on from the subject that had brought them both to tears. The departure seemed artificial. Just as important as fleeing from darkness into light was the attempt to understand darkness. Carina knew this, but did not practice it. Under Lorelai's influence, however, she felt herself inspired yet again. 

No matter. The subject had changed, and Carina would be damned if she passed over a chance to speak at length about food. Before they'd begun their diversion to war talk, Carina'd had a slew of recipes primed to speak on– she'd wanted to boast about how she ordered the most precious ingredients special (maybe even offering to put in a good word with the stockist on Lorelai's behalf, should she ever want something different than could be found on the General Store shelves). Now, whatever trite drabble she'd had lined up seemed insignificant, especially in light of the way her belly twisted when Lorelai said her name. She hoped the nurse would never call her *Miss Templeton* Again.
_ _

"I know quite a bit of French, actually. I studied it when I was a girl. Reading recipes helps me practice, and I end up in the kitchen from there." She said simply, restraining herself to keep her gaze low, on the collar of Lorelai's dress, or down at their laps where both women's hands nervously occupied themselves. She found that the swarming feelings in her head only became more restless when she allowed herself to study the other woman's sweet features for too long. Carina did look up, though, possessed by some masochistic desire to experience that frenzy of emotions again. 

"Knowing that you speak some French, I suppose it might be a laugh to *Parler, un jour.*" She was caught by a nervous grin before managing to straighten her mouth once more, "That is, if you would wish to." 
_ _
Edwin
Like Carina, Lorelai relegated her gaze to the parts of her companion that she considered to be "Safe", such as her beautiful hands, her elegant shoulders, and the space where her hair was so beautifully tucked behind her ear. If she was sneaky, her gaze would flicker just a bit to the side, in hopes of catching just a glimpse of the woman's beautiful jawline.

To be infatuated with the feminine was torture, and not for just the reasons one might expect. Of course, there was the matter of keeping everything very quiet, but there was also the issue of women being creatures of beauty that was sincerely unparalleled. Carina was one such specimen, and this was not the first time Lorelai had noticed it. She had seen it whenever she came into the general store, which is why she kept her eyes down on the counter most days. She had also taken note of her beauty as Carina sat as Mrs. Bigby's bedside, but of course, it was not time for such thoughts when one was mourning. 

She was grateful to move away from morbidity, because she far preferred to see Carina in a more positive note than one dotted with tears. "I'd love t'... Get back in the swing'a speaking French," She said, her cheeks dusted rosy pink. She was grateful that the setting sun and the distant lamplight wouldn't give her away. "But y'can't make fun of me for not remembering all'a it. Been a while since I got around to usin' it." In all honesty, she was nervous to fumble in front of Carina. Lorelai was all *Briar Ridge* In the mouth, with that thick accent she could hardly shake to save her life. 

"Maybe... Maybe you could come 'round and we could try a hand at one of them French recipes," She suggested, heart hammering in her chest. "See where the night... Takes us?" She cleared her throat right after, and she decided to become acquainted with the rocks on the ground by staring at them intently.
Kevin
Should Lorelai have voiced her thoughts aloud, Carina would have fervently argued. To be infatuated with the feminine was *Objectively* Correct. To be tortured would have been to know the harsh angles and rough skin of a man as comfort and attraction. Carina could imagine nothing worse. How a woman could look past the delicate slopes of another woman's shoulders, chest, thighs, in favor of the brutish male architecture, she would never know. Though, she would reluctantly agree to have much in common with men of the heterosexual persuasion: they had good taste in lovers, though she was of the opinion that no man who held a woman in his arms was deserving of her presence. The species needed to continue somehow, she supposed. 

Sexual politics aside, Carina was fairly certain that Lorelai had just proposed... A date? *No, no. Surely just a friendly–*

*"See where the night takes us."*

Carina's blush deepened, equally grateful for the dim light as her company, though she didn't know they shared this sentiment. With Lorelai looking down, Carina stared over at her in what could only be described as amazement. While she had taken to Dimitra's bold invitation to dinner with scandal (and flattery, she would admit), she received Lorelai's sweet suggestion with quiet appreciation. What class! What propriety! Carina laughed, airy. The sound paired well with the soft smile at her lips. She hadn't meant to laugh, but it had just happened: a symptom of her joy. She was unused to such side effects.
_ _

"An excellent idea." She managed, her eyes reluctantly straying from Lorelai's delicate profile to try and find what she was studying on the ground.
"Next Friday?" Carina ventured, looking back at her company, failing to see what was so fascinating at their feet, "That will give me time to receive ingredients from the stockist." Her elaboration sounded more like logistics than romance, and since she'd decided that was what Lorelai was hinting at here (wasn't it?), she tried to steer the tone of conversation back around. 

"If you ever wanted anything special... Anything *Not* On the shelves, you just tell me. I'm a good connection to have in this town." Her eyebrows raised, and her lips pursed. She gently rocked to the side to nudge Lorelai with her shoulder, before straightening up again, her hands nervously squeezed together in her lap. 
_ _
Edwin
The sound of Carina's laughter was at once a delight and the sound of Lorelai's anxiety tied up all in one. It was a beautiful laugh; Carina's laugh was a rarity, she was sure of it. For so long, she thought the woman might've been incapable of cracking a smile, and here she was, *Laughing*. Now, the secondary emotion came about with the question of: *Why* Was she laughing? Was she laughing at Lorelai's mere suggestion of an evening together? Did she think she was ridiculous, off her rocker? Had she misunderstood everything about their conversation? The crickets were in full force as the light had all but disappeared tonight, and their chirps sounded like a chorus of children pointing fingers and laughing. 

Her shoulders slumped as Carina continued on, and all the anxiety that had wound her nerves tight seemed to get snipped; the taut chords sprung loose, and her body felt like it was crumpling like a marionette with no strings. So she *Didn't* Think she was a dumb country bumpkin after all. What a relief. 

"Next Friday," Lorelai agreed, and as Carina pulled her eyes up, she forced herself to do so as well. It was polite; but the intensity of their eye contact made her feel like she was about to burst. "Absolutely. Dinner. I'll be off work by five, because Doctor Ashworth is a lovely man, you met him? Wants to make sure I don't work myself to death these days, and I'm grateful for it." Her fingers rubbed at the fabric of her dress again, and her eyes began to treacherous climb of Carina's arm. Up her wrist and to her arm and then her shoulder, soaking in the way her arm moved and the tucking of hair behind an ear. 

"I feel like I know a secret nobody else does," She admitted, and she bashfully leaned into the touch when Carina nudged her with her shoulder. Their shoulders were touching again, even after Carina pulled back, and the warmth was enough to send Lorelai into a flush that rose up her neck and cheeks. "I'll be sure t' use it to my advantage."

Her eyes flickered down briefly at the white-knuckled hold that Carina had on her own hands, and she sucked in a breath. She wanted to fit her hand over those delicate fingers and caress them to relax. To press her thumbs into the tense muscle and relax her. She did not do this, for fear of overstepping. 

"It's a lovely night," She observed softly, not taking her eyes off Carina now. "Sitting here with you... I've really enjoyed myself."
Kevin
It was true as of late that something inside of Carina Templeton was coming alive. The seismic activity launched from the death of Mrs. Bigby, combined with Dimitra's affections (and from seeing the woman torn into by a werewolf), multiplied by offering comfort to the grieving Marianne, and finally reinforced by the shared company of Lily, served to rearrange Carina in a way that supported a new, more hospitable kind of architecture within her. The curtains were peeking open in one of her cobwebbed windows; the rugs were hung on the line for dusting. For once in her life, it was becoming difficult to question softness and simple pleasures. There was no source of anger here, sitting with Miss Roswell. There was nothing to be defensive or embarrassed or ashamed of. 

Carina continued to smile, her throat threatening to bubble with another laugh. 
She was *Happy.*

"I'd be upset if you didn't." She promised, venturing her gaze to the side of Lorelai's face, caught in her staring as the other woman looked up. Carina boldly held her attention.

"It is a lovely night." She agreed, with a curt nod, "I don't see why we shouldn't sit here as long as we please." 

On another night, perhaps with a dinner in their past, Carina might have taken Lorelai's hand in hers, dragging it over to her lap to hold it properly; close to herself. On another night, perhaps with months of dinners in their past, Carina might hold that hand and tilt her head over to rest on Lorelai's shoulder. 

On another night, with dinners and lunches and breakfasts in their past, Carina might have forgone reaching for Miss Roswell's hand at all, instead reaching her fingers back into her hair. On that night, Carina might have kissed the nurse, smile to smile, for only the oak tree, the street lights, and all the stars to witness. 
_ _
Edwin
"I don't have any obligations," She said, her voice a little breathless. This felt like something far more intimate than anyone but the two of them could understand. Their shoulders touching, sitting together like this; her heart was racing. Anyone normal might think it was a little bit funny, getting so excited about something like this. However, Lorelai knew that this was much more than that. They'd made plans for dinner, there was a silent understanding that from here on out, it was not mere friendship they were seeking. 

She could imagine what it would be like, to slide her fingers between Carina's and hold on tight. To feel the warmth of skin on skin, to exchange kisses in the darkness of the shade of this tree. Neither acted on this ideas, these... *Wants*, but they both felt them. They exchanged them through that simple shoulder touch; that there could be *More*. It was exhilarating; Lorelai had been so sure that she would never find someone else in Briar Ridge who could possibly feel like she did, and here she sat - Carina Templeton knew how it felt to love the beauty of a woman. The potential nearly had her buzzing out of her seat, but she kept it contained to a smile directed in Carina's direction. 

They could sit there for forever, she thought. Plant roots down, become part of the bench. Maybe their branches would twist together, until two smaller trees became one, and no one could tell where one began and the other ended. Lorelai hoped, she *Prayed* Quietly in her head, that these ideas of hand holding, of kissing, enjoying company - breakfasts and tea and dinners, dessert by candlelight, all of it - she prayed she could have it. 

They wouldn't leave til it was late, when Lorelai couldn't muster another word and her eyelids were heavy. But she would, however, dream about delicate fingers and Carina's rare, honeyed laugh that soaked into the very marrow of her bones.