"Eef you are not sick of me by zee time zis evening ees over, zee next date we 'ave I will cook for you," Fleur said boldly, talking the kettle and petals from Bill with a smile. "Zere will be wine. At 'ome, we 'ave wine wiz nearly every dinner. Not a lot–we do not drink to get drunk–but we 'ave per'aps a glass or two. Eet depends on zee dish. We drink a little younger zere, so I am–'ow do I explain?–eet ees not a big deal? Eet ees not een our nature to get very drunk."
Fleur rambled as she prepared the tea, toying with each of the petals as she dropped them into the water. She welcomed the chance to be quiet when Bill started to explain about the food, ooh-ing appreciatively when he revealed what he had made earlier.
"I do not mind getting my 'ands dirty," Fleur said. She took her cue from Bill and rolled it into balls. "Zis reminds me of falafel. Do you eat eet wiz 'ummus?"