And, boy, am I nervous.
So.
I ramble off an exceedingly horrifying, “So, um, farming sim games in my old world are usually laced with romance opportunities. You get to have your little house and your little farm, and your little husband or wife, to then build a little virtual family with. It’s very cute. Very cozy. Probably uncomfortable to hear. I-I’m sorry.”
He stares at me.
The night market swirls around us.
His brows knit. “You… Were…we? Is…is that what you meant when you said I was your favorite character? I was…the one you married?”
Oh my granite. Iwish.
I don’t, however, saythat. What I do is laugh like a crackhead and say, “Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t worry. You weren’t one of the romanceable options.” To my everlasting chagrin.
This information does not lessen Samson’s soul-searching stare. “So, who would you romance?”
Literally everyonegets stuck in my throat, and I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared to explain how I one hundred percent the heck out ofVale of Gemswith a determination that borders on psychotic, so I say, “Usually, Pyro.”
“Pyro?”
I’d prefer to swallow my tongue than continue this conversation. “He’s…sweet. Less annoying than, like, I don’t know. Lazul.”
“Lazul?” he blurts. “Lazulwas a romanceable character, when I wasn’t?”
Iknow! I want to say. But I do not. I do not say that. I say, “The logic is lacking. I mean, Austin of all people was romanceable, too.”
I’m fairly certain Samson’s expression would be more tame if I’d stabbed him. “Don’t…tell me…you’ve…” His voice trails, and my horrible affliction rears with a vengeance I am never prepared for.
“I have! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Dropping my attention, I plunge my fingers into my hair. “I guess I wanted to see if there was any excuse for his behavior at any point in the full breadth of his character arc. All I got, though, was boohoo sad boy nonsense about a bad childhood. And, I’m sorry, but a bad childhood doesn’t excuse grown behavior. It mighttryto explain it, but at some point you have to take responsibility for your own actions, say,wowza my parents sucked, and become better than them out of pure spite if nothing else.” Heart thundering in my ears, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Lemonade…” Samson tips my face up. “It’s nothing to apologize for.” He searches my eyes, which might be a touch weepy. “I’m just…surprised. And also confused at what exactly the genre of your game is if it has both decimating monsters and starting families.”
Welcome to the wonderful world of cozy farm sims… It caters perfectly to the two wolves inside women—that is the one that craves a sweet little romance, and the one that craves violent disemboweling of all adversaries.
It’s the duplicity of femininity.
“I’ve never thought it was strange before. It’s fairly genre standard for farming sims.”
Swiping a hand down his mouth, Samson glances at the display of circlets. “Well…would you like to look at them?”
I would like to do anything that evicts me from this conversation, so—fervently—I nod.
Chapter 24
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
No one told me the singular bed trope was included in this DLC??
I. Am. Horrified.
“Well,” Samson says, “I guess this is what happens when you call medearin front of an inn receptionist while I’m getting us a room.”
We are standing, side by side, in a somewhat lavish room.
As we climbed the gilded stairwell and traveled down cerulean carpets, I knew Samson bought us aniceplace to stay tonight.
I simply had expected it to have, you know, two beds. At least.
