Ernest gave her a look of total confusion when she called it a kink palace, trying to backtrack in his head to figure out what the hell he'd said. He caught up, realising how it sounded when you weren't used to this place, and he laughed - although he did avert his gaze just for a moment, not wanting to give away too much. "Oh, no, no. It's not an explicit wish. It's more like a man saying 'I...'" he gave a silent nod rather than actually saying the word again. Isabel had to be looking for any excuse to show him up. "'that I had children'. And the genie, being a woman you see, says 'well, you can be the pregnant woman then'," he stopped, paused for a moment as he thought about what he'd just said. "I sound crazy."
But she was talking about college again, and he was able to listen intently to someone talking about the real, sane world, and it felt better. Less like a doctor was about to give him a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder any second. "I think I would've. Damn war got in the way, I guess. Figured I'd be able to go after it was all over, but- well, homecoming didn't go exactly as planned," he said, sure that she knew even though she didn't know him. It was bloody annoying, actually. Of course it was good, because she was Abi and she already had a bit of a head start, but there was something irksome about people knowing so much about you before you'd told them. Especially with things like injuries, or perceived weaknesses. "How much longer did you have to go at college?" he asked, trying to shift the focus from his own shortcomings.
He sighed with relief when she seemed to understand his meaning. "What do you suggest? How can we re-energise each other?" he asked her. He had a few ideas of his own, but it was all pretty obvious and male.
"Depends what you're into, I suppose." He gave her a wink, and then laughed at how ridiculous the whole situation was. This damn place. But really, he hadn't felt this happy in years, just sitting in the food court and talking to Abigail Knightly.
She was digging into his soul. Getting her fingernails right under the surface of his soul and scraping and tugging at it, and it. Had she got this from how he was remembered? As an old drunk packed full of regrets? Or was she reading it on him now? It could just be a general observation, of course, but it felt like he was being forced to look in the mirror. He wasn't sure who he was anymore, but it definitely wasn't the man he'd once felt capable of being. He chuckled softly to himself. "Me? Jealous? No, no, it's not like me to get driven mad with jealously, not at all," he joked. "I'm definitely telling him before the door closes, you know," he teased.
"Well, I try to be. I spent a lot of time keeping myself closed off, and... well, it's better to be open. As long as it's with the right person," he told her. "You're definitely not blank pages, either, although I know that I'm barely scratching the surface right now. You make me want to know more," he told her truthfully.
Of course, he knew plenty about his Abi, but he wanted to get this Abi to open up for him, and not just in bed. He wanted to see what he knew what inside, and for a moment he felt a thrill about it. He got to meet her all over again, fall in love with her all over again. Maybe that was better luck than he'd realised. He burst out laughing, glancing over his shoulder at her and then adding a silly wiggle to his walk just for her amusement.