[Morgan waves back enthusiastically, smiling. Pretending had always been second nature to the English teacher. A way of life, really. Throwing an arm around Asher's neck -boys grow up too fast, and before you know it try to squirm away from public displays of affection- pulling him closer -in a hug? in a headlock?- Morgan ruffles the short blond hair and drops a kiss on the top of his head.]

Is the flower stand as big a success as I think it is?

[Another shower of golden sparks erupt in the sky, interrupting the conversation, and Morgan, thrilled by the booming, as loud as canons -as loud as war- slips an arm around Casimir's -Oh, Casimir...- presses close to him, chin propped up on his shoulder, then whispers with eyes wide, eyes that are always focused on him, only on him...]

I can tell something is wrong...