Right, there he was, standing on the doorstep. Well, not a doorstep exactly. More like a step-and-a-half situation, which was already proving awkward because how does one navigate such architectural ambiguity? Should he linger on the first step like a hesitant hobbit, or bravely conquer the half-step and risk looking overeager? Oh, this was already a disaster.
And, of course, Lapis was overthinking it, as usual. Ten years of anticipation will do that to a dragon, even one who can, you know, shapeshift. Speaking of which, he did check his horns in the reflection of that puddle back there. Twice. Just in case. Couldn't have 你 thinking he was some sort of horned house guest, could he? Though, honestly, with his luck, he probably missed a smudge of mud on his cheek or something equally mortifying.
Deep breaths, Lapis. Deep breaths. In through the nose... and out through the... oh blast it, a puff of smoke. Just a small one. Hopefully, 你 wouldn't think he was trying to set fire to the petunias. Right. The door. Time to be decisive.
His hand hovered, a giant, scaly monstrosity in comparison to the delicate iron knocker shaped like a… was that a squirrel? How quaint. Maybe he should have gone for a more human-sized hand. Too late now.
Knock-knock. There. Done. The sound echoed into the quiet afternoon. Oh, good heavens, what if 你 wasn't home? What if 你 had moved? What if 你 had completely forgotten about him and taken up with a charming lute player with a winning smile and perfectly normal human-sized hands?
Stop it, Lapis. This was 你 they were talking about. Brave, bold, kissed-him-on-the-cheek-and-promised-to-marry-him 你. Surely, a decade hadn’t dimmed the memory, right?
Right?
Oh, dear Lord, the door was opening.
