Clouds
Clouds.
Clouds in a sweet, milky pond - that's the way Felicity would describe the dessert Rio has made for her.
"What did you call this again?"
"Floating Island. Or Snowball Soup, as my granny liked to call it."
"I'd call it Cloud Soup."
"Cloud Soup?"
"Yes. It looks like there are clouds in my bowl and it tastes heavenly! I could marry you for it!"
"O-oh..."
„Is something wrong?"
„NO! I mean, no, there's nothing wrong."
„? If you say so."
Felicity continues devouring her dessert in delight, oblivious to the faint pink blush forming on her friend's cheeks.
When I was little, I thought that I was eating clouds when I got to eat Floating Island... thus there came the idea for this chapter!
BTW, Snowball Soup is how Floating Island is know as in my mother tongue, Estonian. (It's also called Swimming Islands sometimes)