When Aurora zipped away without so much as a 'should have used the bathroom at the restaurant' excuse, Curt was a little miffed. If she had just decided to be an enormous cocktease? Well, Curt had just paid for two Arabian meals and by God, he was going to eat them. Outside. In his truck. Under the stars. He decided that - perhaps with her ability to fly - Aurora was also a bit flighty herself, and he made up the back of his truck like he would, if she was still there.
When a sudden breeze crossed his cheek, Curt looked up at her and smiled. "I'd hoped you weren't going to leave me out here to eat all this food myself." The back of the truck now did actually look like a cloud. There were several large lumps, pillows he'd bought and sealed in one of those suck-all-the-air-out bags, but over them was a white fitted sheet, tucked in at the corners to give the illusion of one giant - if lumpy - cushion. Pieces of plywood as wide as his lap laid in each corner to keep the sheet where it was. He selected two of these and offered one to Aurora.
"So do you work up an appetite with all that flying you do?" Scientific curiosity had gotten the better of him, but he figured she didn't much mind talking about herself.