Gregory was exhausted. It had been a tough trial in court that morning, and it would be a blatant lie to say that he hadn't had to fight extremely hard and it had taken its toll on him. But Miss Lestor, his client, had held so much faith in him that he'd just managed to pull through. He'd won the case, and his boss had been so happy that he sent him home for the afternoon with the promise of a promotion.

To summarise, the good news was he'd won the case. The even better news was he now got to relax in his new house. A house that would (hopefully) be where he would start a family someday.

His parents kept on telling him he thought ahead too much.

After practically dropping his briefcase next to the door, he walked over to his sofa and gently let himself lie down. It was a joke at the office that he worked all the time, so he felt like he had something to prove by just allowing for some time for himself.

At least, that was the plan. The plan that was quickly interrupted by a knock at the door.

With a long sigh that he didn't bother to hide, he pushed himself up and sluggishly opened the door to come face to face with the last person he was expecting.

"Misty?"

She waved somewhat nervously. "Hello!"

He tried to think of something to say, but he was too tired for his mind to work properly. And it was only midday, too.

"Wha- what are you doing here?" he stammered finally.

Misty fiddled with the tassels of her black overcoat nervously. "I'm sorry to disturb you and this is the first place I thought I could go since you're the only person I trust in the city and-"

He lifted a hand to stop her rambling.

"Alright, slow down. What happened?"

"Oh!" She said suddenly. "Did I forget to mention? I ran away from home."

If it had been anyone else, Gregory would have been annoyed. If it had been anyone else, Gregory probably would have slammed the door in their face.

But it was Misty, and Gregory had learnt over the past few months that he could never say no to Misty. Whether it was her enthusiasm or naivety he found endearing, he had to admit that she had won him over pretty quickly.

With a smaller sigh, he stepped aside. "Come in. You can explain inside."

She smiled at him. It was a thankful smile, probably nothing more than politeness and courtesy, but he couldn't ignore the way it melted him so much that the majority of his exhaustion drifted away the moment she walked past him and into his home.

Once inside, he noticed how she was unsure of what to do. She kept looking at her sandals and then at Gregory's own black socks. He got the message, so he decided to step in.

"You can keep them on or take them off, whichever you feel more comfortable with." He prompted.

She smiled at him gratefully and took them off before shuffling inside with an awkward air.

He motioned to the sofa he'd risen from.

"Have a seat. I'm guessing this is a long story."

Misty obeyed. "It is." She giggled, tapping the space next to her.

As he sat down, Gregory noticed for the first time since moving in how bland his house was. He'd done most of the work himself, and the result was a lot of grey. He thought it looked professional, and in his opinion it truly did. But maybe it was something to do with the fact that a beautiful woman who he associated with bright colours and fits of giggles and life had entered it, dulling it even more. Even the vibrant robes she wore at the time probably had more colour than his entire wardrobe.

"So?" He prompted with a smile, fighting back a yawn.

"So," she began awkwardly, "you remember my sister Morgan right? From the case?"

Of course he remembered Morgan. She had been one of the more… difficult clients he'd had to work with.

But he'd tried his best. For Misty's sake.

"I do." He answered. "What about her?"

Misty sucked in a breath. "My mother died recently, and in our culture the title of being the master of the Kurain channelling technique is passed down to the eldest daughter. The problem is that I'm a lot more advanced than she is, it's just a natural thing, and so the elders are saying that it should be me instead."

She paused her ramble to gauge his reaction, but Gregory was too engrossed in her words to notice.

"They'd mentioned it to me before, said that it was likely to be me instead. I just… never really thought about the implications."

"And I presume your sister wasn't very happy with that arrangement?" Gregory asked.

Misty shook her head. "She wasn't. There was a big argument, which ended in my friend Saima suggesting that someone should just channel my mother and see what she says."

"And what did she say?"

"I don't know," Misty blushed, "I left before they could do it and came here. I suppose I'm scared of what she'll say."

Gregory felt conflicted. One one hand he'd never been good at giving emotional advice despite being a defence attorney. On the other hand, there was just something about Misty that made him ready to conform to her every whim at a moment's notice. It was an odd feeling, and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

"That sounds very intense." He said. "Is there… anything I can do to help?"

She shuffled around on her seat so she could face him. She had a strange expression on her face that made Gregory feel that odd feeling again.

"I really hate to bother you and I know it's only midday, but would you mind if I spend the night here?"

Well, that was a simple question. "Of course you can. The house is still rather new and the guest rooms haven't been decorated yet, so I hope you don't mind. Once I save some more money, then perhaps you could-"

His words were cut-off when Misty darted towards him and brushed her lips against his cheek.

"Nnngh!"

That's when it hit him. That pesky feeling, that bubbling in his chest whenever he saw her, it was… love.

Something must have shown on his face, because she pulled back as quickly as she'd leaned in.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaked. "I shouldn't have interrupted you. Carry on."

Despite the fact that his cheeks were burning, Gregory did his very best to keep his professionalism. "N-No, it's alright." He stammered, breathlessly. "But u-um, if you don't mind me asking… why did you do that?"

Her cheeks were almost as red as his. "My friend Saima told me that you were supposed to kiss men that you like. And I really like you, especially because you're letting me stay, and I'm sorry is that not normal?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly, his blush showing no sign of receding. "Normally kissing means a lot more than just liking someone."

"Oh." She said, visibly dejected. Then, moments later: "O-Oh! I'm sorry, is it really... that?"

"Yes, if by 'that' you mean romance."

Misty buried her face into her hands, and had a sudden urge to comfort her. He wasn't the best in social situations either, and he knew all too well what it felt like to make a mockery of yourself in front of people you're trying to impress.

Wait a minute…

"You know…" Misty mumbled though her voice was somewhat muffled. She then said something else, but Gregory couldn't quite catch it.

He had the smallest, tiniest, nerve-wracking idea. "Sorry? What did you-"

Once again, he was cut off, though this time their lips met. He made a startled noise.

His heart was racing. His brain was working extremely quickly, trying to decipher what the hell was going on, and why did he want this? He'd only known Misty for a few months, ever since his train routes were mixed up and she came to him as a client. And he may have taken her on a tour of the city, but that was only in celebration of their victory. And yes, there might have been a spark between them and their playful banter, but he was certain he'd imagined it. Now… he wasn't so sure.

Again, she pulled back but stayed close. She looked up at him with pleading, questioning eyes that he would have to be heartless to refuse.

"I love you too." He muttered, because at this point he was pretty certain that taking things slow was out of the picture.

And judging by the way Misty's entire face lit up in a way that even made his dull house shine bright, that was the correct answer.

And then she started to laugh.

"What?" Gregory asked, suddenly terrified that her innocence had all been an awful joke. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, Mr Posh," she replied, "I just can't believe it. In my village we're taught that there's no such thing as a perfect man and yet… here you are."

Gregory grinned, an expression that felt both foreign and natural, and pulled her close. It was his turn to kiss her, being the gentleman.

And it was in that blissful moment that he'd somehow managed to convince himself that it would be possible to take things slow with Misty Fey. If only he'd known…

"Gregory, can we get married?"