[With his eyes down, he briefly looks a little... mmm, emotionally constipated? Like he doesn't know if he wants to be, like, "ew gross" about these feelings, or if he wants to be really fond about the memory.
His eyes flicker up finally at her.]
Well? Are they what you hoped they'd taste like?
[She said they were good, but that don't mean nothing.]
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[He lowers the cup to peer into the liquid of it, expression like he's trying to decide if he likes it or not.]
Why this one?
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They're both good.
[as for the tea:]
Your admissions sheet said you were originally from an island, so I thought the hibiscus might suit your tastes...
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It... reminds me of... them.
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she smiles.]
That sounds like a nice memory.
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His eyes flicker up finally at her.]
Well? Are they what you hoped they'd taste like?
[She said they were good, but that don't mean nothing.]
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[she holds up the package, even opened as it is.]
..."Tasted the Rainbow".
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[He groans.]
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Did you used to eat skittles with your childhood friends on the island?
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I only met them once, so I wouldn't really call us friends. The other boy had them with him, and he kept giving them to me and the girl.
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They must have made an impact, to remind you of the tea and shape your wish.