[His eyes follow her across the room, continuing to stare as she makes her final preparations for bed. To him, Yoimiya is simply ethereal, how her skin glistens even beneath her kimono robe, the ghost of her body against his in the bath still making his own skin tingle. His silence is the affirmation that she's right, he can't keep his eyes off of her, welcoming her heat against him as she cuddles right up next to him. Every line she draws across his cheek soothes him further into a nice, restful sleep, his eyelids drooping even as he gazes deeply into her own golden, honeyed irises. She's so pretty, he thinks as he lays there on his pillow, etching the soft curves of her cheeks and the soft glow of her smile into his mind, replaying her cute giggle through his head as he continues to admire her.]

I can't help it, [he finally admits, his voice groggy and overcome with tiredness from the excitement from the day.] Your radiance has me completely captivated here- what else am I supposed to do?

[Tartaglia leans his head down to capture her lips, administering a loving, languid kiss. He invites her in, to savor their bond and taste the sweet flavor of their love, pressing himself against her and tangling his legs with hers. He finds himself lost in the kiss, content to twine himself with her and drown beneath waves of ardor that wash up and pull him underneath them. All this talk of marriage, their bath, and now this has his mind rose-tinted and bubbly with love. He never knew he could feel quite like this, especially since none of it pertains to battle.

Oh yes, that's right...the charm. He releases himself from her for only a moment, to say:]

Mmmmm, don't forget the charm. I want to see what our dream wedding would look like.

[He says as if he doesn't really believe that it would have the power to show them anything, but he likes the idea of tricking his mind into dreaming of it regardless. They say, after all, that dreams might be related to what had happened that day...]