He listened carefully to the way that Llewellyn described it. How different their respective childhoods had been. He couldn’t remember attending any kind of dance before he was a teenager. “It must have been beautiful.” He murmured. Beau tried to envision what it would be like to dance in a field on a dark summer night. He took a deep, silent breath trying to use the scent of the room to augment his imagination.
He twitched his fingers and three honeysuckle bushes in full summer bloom suddenly appeared around the edges of the tub, fireflies drifting lazily among the leaves. The branches reached elegantly down to brush the water of the tub as if they had always grown there. Beau opened his eyes and peered over the edge up at Llewellyn.