She look like home. There's something about the dark, cut by nothing but stripes of bright light, that looks like midnight in the back room of her aunt's club - girls rushing back and forth, fixing their makeup and shouting for pins, their heels high and the music muffled enough to do nothing but thrum around in Ces' chest - that's impossibly warm. It's not strictly savory, not the childhood most people think of, but it's still what home looks like. And it's - It's nice, the lights casting colors on the high parts of Pearl's cheeks.

"Just cause I think you'll say yes doesn't mean I shouldn't try, honey." Ces' hand reaches up just a bit to tough the ends if her hair, twists some strands around her fingers. "I should probably ask, huh?"