It's a quiet evening like a lone rain drop hitting a puddle or a lake, only illuminated by the moonlight that surrounds it. Or like a star slowly coming to illuminate the sky, a beautiful bright light overhead being the only source of light. That is what this evening is like, and Shirayuki isn't sure how to define the feeling like starlight that rests openly over her heart as well.

It's like the quiet of the night has sunk in through her skin and lifted up her heart, made it flutter, made it turn with emotion. But that's a hard thing to place, and Shirayuki is better, so much better, at action than at words. Let her 'science', let her work with her hands, rather than find the words that are locked up like a vault inside her.

Yet, there's something to even the light rustle of the breeze that brushes her skin and lifts up her clothes, to make her sleeves look like little waving hands, a motion of greeting. She's standing here with Zen barely a few inches apart from her, and the night's lone whisper surrounding them. Yet what is it that she wants to say?

She looks up at blue eyes that remind her of flower petals, because whenever they widen or contract, they look like flowers unfolding, soft and gentle, and the blue is the perfect shade for flowers, themselves, and yet, she has no words to say.

"Is everything alright?" Zen sounds like he's struggling to clear his throat, his voice is somewhat congested, like it's half hidden away in an alcove somewhere.

"I don't know." Shirayuki says before she thinks better of it, "I mean, it's a beautiful night." And it is.

"It is beautiful." And with one eye, Zen seems to watch the night around them, and with the other, he stays focused on her. It's as if he's in agreement with her observation, but has an and to add on to it. It makes her face flush red.

"Thank you." Shirayuki whispers like the words are hard to find, and perhaps they are in certain ways, little inconsequential ways, but still it's a struggle to acknowledge the subtleties at play here. And Shirayuki still feels almost silly at picking up on the compliment, but also kind of giddy like a child or radiant like the stars above them.

Zen smiles at her, a little way to remind her that that is the truth, that he truly finds her beautiful, stunning like a flame cast just before dawn, and Shirayuki grins wider at him, a little stunned, almost dazed by the sweetness of the words that easily spill from his lips.

He seems far better at it than she is, and Shirayuki struggles to grasp the right kind of words to break any lingering silence and give them something else to mention. She knows that the silence between them is not a waste, that there is meaning there and joy and comfort, but yet she really, really wants to savor this moment with a few words to define it.