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" Well, that's because I'm not a fruit. I'm sorry to pop your bubble, your Highness." Emerson replies swiftly, smirking. 

I reach over and grab his hand," What a shame? I think you'd be a great blueberry!" 

" A blueberry?" he scoffs. 

"Your highness?" 

Our food arrives shortly afterwards and as we eat we don't speak. 

After splitting the bill evenly he grabs my hand and we walk out together, into the warm night.


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