Of late, Evan had been dealing with a foul bit of humanity, and it made it difficult to be as standoffish as he would have liked with this stranger.
Evan smiled wistfully. One of the things he missed most about Marseille were its Christmases. Lights lining the streets on all the barren trees and light dustings of snow, the bustle of the Marseille Market at the beginning of December… he chuckled a bit. "Everyone here says that New York Christmases are lovely, and I agree, but nothing quite compares to a Marseille Christmas," he mused.
"Sleep in your roots" was a peculiar phrase. Evan wasn't sure he knew what that meant. Though the girl mentioned that she dreamed in French and he chuckled softly. "I do that more often than I'd like to admit. Though I suppose it makes more sense for me, since it's my first language."