Hemingway's sincerity was exciting; she'd never felt so absorbed into someone's life so quickly as she was here. That was him though, roping you in and making you fall for his charms. "That's fantastic," though it occurred to her that she had no idea what to write to him about. No matter, though, tonight they were dancing dirty and drinking like sailors on leave. "How far is this place we're going?" she asked, noticing how the streets had turned rougher.
Dissolving into giggles, she leant her head on his shoulder. "I promise not to do that, the guy wasn't so good with women, was he?" She'd only heard rumours, of course; stuff from second hand biographies. "I can neither confirm nor deny that statement in regards to me. You'll have to perform your own analytical study..."