Well, that sly fraction of a smile said everything, didn't it? Suddenly, Bragi wasn't lucky to have been spared a deadly murderous stare. He was lucky for some other reason. A curious, obscure, undefined reason. If Idun had still been caught in a massive whirlwind of conflicting feelings, perhaps she would've panicked over the implications and found herself locked beneath a tumultuous ocean of contradictions and misconceptions and curiosities. But she had already decided to just let all that go. As long as this was an innocent flirtation, Idun was free to take his smile and his mischievous words and chuckle merrily in reply.
"We're talking about very serious, very lethal glares, Bragi. Don't forget," she gently reminded him, though when she briefly met his gaze again, her smile was teasing enough to imply she knew what he was up to. Bragi wasn't the only one who could play this game of gentle, harmless nudging. Idun was a seasoned professional. It just took a little while for her to remember as much. But she wasn't losing her composure anymore. It had been decided. And when she was composed, it was on. Granted, that particular saying wouldn't be around for a very, very long time, but the idea remained the same.
They were simply dancing around one another, and Idun loved to dance.
For a moment, though, she had to wonder why the idea of something being romantic sounded so unpleasant when Bragi spoke of it. She couldn't define what made his words sound so hollow. It wasn't his tone. Not exactly, anyway. There was simply something off about the way he was speaking of romantic notions and theory versus practice. Idun found herself made curious enough to part her lips, a question forming on her tongue, but she realized this wasn't dancing. Not when his tone sounded off, not when instinct told her she had some unclear reason to be concerned. This was going to bother her.
It didn't matter, she decided. Stepping from the dance floor for a moment was hardly the worst thing she could do.
"How do you know?" she asked. It wasn't an accusation, as it might've been yesterday. Idun had decided his voice sounded detached. That was why it felt so wrong, listening to him speak of what he'd heard from some mysterious source. Why would that information sound so hollow if it didn't matter to him in some way? No...perhaps this was the first step towards the friendship he'd offered her. Perhaps the dance would resume once he answered, whether the reply satisfied her curiosity or not. Either way, Idun had asked. It was out of her hands now, even though the wide-eyed moment of concern still read clear across her face as she looked up at him.
As Bragi continued talking, Idun began to reconsider the dance altogether. Would it really be so awful if they were friends? The more he spoke, the more Idun wanted to know. That wasn't uncommon. She always wanted to know more. Especially about potential friends. That the whole concept of friendship with Bragi still registered as wrong was a fact she was ignoring completely. If she paid that thought any mind, she ran the risk of realizing why friendship wouldn't do. Why he was able to catch disappointment in her expression when it was proposed. Idun was too curious to be friends, no matter what she told herself. And, as much as she fought and protested and built walls, that feeling was going to win out.
But not before this interaction came to a close. Maybe that was what held her back. The unacknowledged realization that she wasn't ready yet, and this road wasn't long enough to get her there.
"You'll make a wonderful father one day, then," she told him. That much she was certain of. Perhaps it was the sadness she kept detecting in his tone. Idun squeezed his arm lightly, a simple gesture that was accompanied by a soft smile, warm and small. It didn't matter if he felt her whole plan for motherhood was off. He was already protecting children he had yet to have. That was admirable.