Some little pissant I assume was a god forced you to talk about a crush. Cupid, I believe was his name?

[yeah, trench is rarely nice about things. he stops at the door a moment before coming in, pocketing his omni to continue the conversation with words now that they're in the same room.]

I suppose that is good then. The one thing I will give these ridiculous matters, they are usually cathartic when handled head on.

And this would be the moment I ask if you wish to discuss it or shall I drop the subject entirely. [a little wave of the hand, purposely casual. what else can you do with this shit, really?] Whichever you prefer.