[ Somehow the irreverence is enough. The lighthearted acceptance, without a beat missed, and the small twirl before she sits, as if showing off a new dress. It could be argued that that notion wasn't too far off, and that, finally, is the thing that gets him laughing just a little bit. Even if it's just at himself, for a foolish notion that, while it didn't quite backfire, also didn't quite turn out like he'd expected either. But the way she looks in it, seated in the sand beside him, he thinks a little self-deprecation is worth it. ]

Looks like we won't be sharing a closet after all.

[ His gaze isn't quite so heavy now, his chest not quite so tight. Despite their mutual pining for worlds neither one of them can be sure they'll see again, and likely not any time soon, there's a familiar spark he sees in her of people he knew back home. And right now, he'll do just about anything to shield that spark from the cool ocean breeze, the threat of sand dousing it—or even just any further sips from cups that feel bottomless when really he's just been foolish enough to keep returning for more misery.

With a small sigh, finally one not full of discontentment and longing, he settles back with his arms propped behind him, eyes focused on the way the waves give a convincing performance of a tide. ] Thanks. For keeping me company like this. Name's Gladiolus. Just in case you end up having to stick around this place.