"Thanks for the.. uh, beautiful flowers." The petite woman took the arrangement Gerrit has put together and bashfully paid, all without really looking at him. It was the third flower arrangement she had bought this month. "You're welcome. I'm glad you're thinking of me when it comes to gifts."


"Oh, I'm thinking of you all the time- I mean, uh, what I meant was-" Bashful turned into downright embarrassed as she tried to talk her way out of the slip up. Gerrit could be called oblivious, but he wasn't totally stupid. "It's okay, don't worry. Just earlier this week, I answered 'you too' to the waitress who asked me to 'enjoy my meal'." He smiled at her in that awkward, apologetic way he used to behave most of his life.


It was an act, of course. He barely went out nowadays, but he didn't want her to feel too bad. She obviously had a crush on him.


But then, out of the blue, another thought wormed itself into his consciousness. He considered for a beat, before looking down at the counter. "Besides, uh, it's always nice to know someone as remarkable as you is thinking of me." Funny, how difficult it was to add those sounds of insecurity as a tool. Still, he thought he pulled it off: just enough stumbling over the words to make it seem sincere, just enough of a compliment to reach her - but not too much. Women like her didn't like the big flourishes of poetry.
Right after he said his piece, he felt the sickly-sweet rush of Glamour. Desire, as vibrant and sticky as honey, filled his nerves. There was something else.. shame? A tang of self-deprication? He knew those emotions well. Still, wasn't it great to sense those emotions in someone else for a change?


Gerrit indulged, keeping a straight and equally bashful appearance all the while.
Good thing Colonel Worm wasn't here to judge him right now.