"My, you look rather upset, Lluvia," Wheedle pointed out the moment she approached his booth.

"I am." She huffed out a sigh. "It's hot, I am tired, and I think I overworked myself today."

"Oh, finally admitting the fact that you are a workaholic?" He chuckled.

"I am not!" Lluvia snapped with a scowl. But she couldn't argue against the claim. "Whatever. Hope you don't mind if I stick around for a bit."

"By all means, feel free to stay. You're practically free advertisement for my booth. All eyes are always on you, and to an extent that means me too."

Lluvia let out a short hum, as her eyes wandered down to the exposed hairs on Wheedle's chest. Truth be told, she didn't even listen, since all of her attention was fixed on his body.

Which he noticed, and found it rather amusing. He tends to do the same to her, even if he thinks that she hasn't realized it, but something tells him that Lluvia isn't ignorant about it.

Despite the heavy rain, Lluvia was able to work without much trouble, seeing it as something that can be overcome, no matter the weather. But the moment she arrived home, the scent of a particularly strong cologne welcomed her, mixed together with the awful scent of cigar smoke.

"Hello, Lluvia!" Wheedle greeted her, while standing before her fireplace, looking rather smug, and surprisingly dry.

The farmer glanced to her right to see a gaudy looking umbrella with a large puddle underneath. With a heavy sigh, she shut the door behind her, knowing that she shouldn't complain, given that she is absolutely drenched as well. "Comfortable?" she asked, though Wheedle knew it wasn't an actual question.

"Absolutely," he still replied, before taking another drag of his cigar. "What a lovely abode, with such interesting trinkets and decoration... Why, I recognize that snow globe on your shelf. It just adds something to the room, no?"

Lluvia groaned from frustration, before shaking her head. "I'm going to go change."

"Take your time, my violet-haired friend."

Once she was in her nightgown, Lluvia poured out some water for her and Wheedle, while he relaxed on her couch, petting Buddy. She found it surprising that he seemed to genuinely like the cat, but perhaps it's because he is a willing accomplice towards the sleaze, and his joy of intruding in on her home. (Not that she truly minds it.)

As she passed the cup to Wheedle, she sat beside him, finally getting comfortable after a long day of work.

"You told me once that your name means 'rain'," Wheedle spoke up, before taking a sip of water. "How fitting for a farmer."

Lluvia chuckled as she tried to reach for Buddy, but the cat ignored her completely for Wheedle instead. Instead of feeling insulted, she smirked, believing that he must have bribed her feline companion with food or catnip, but something told her that he simply liked Wheedle. "It is, isn't it?" She chuckled. "But it's a coincidence. If you asked me what I was going to do in my life in ten years when I was twenty, farming wouldn't have been it."

"But it's like a calling, no?"

"I wouldn't say that. My mother named me after our ancestor, but... Ugh." Lluvia shook her head as if to shake away the memories that were threatening to resurface. "It's not like it matters anyway. Besides, I've heard from Eiland that 'Wheedle' is common in your family..." She then turned to him with a grin, while Wheedle seemed indifferent. "I'm curious on how true that is."

The sleaze scoffed out a laugh. "It is, but it's not that it's all spelt the same way, or even pronounced as such."

Lluvia gave a thoughtful hum, as she recalled meeting people in the past, that do tend to share similar names as one of their relatives. "I think I know where you're coming from... It's like, Alice, Alicia, and Alyssa, while similar, are all different."

"More or less. But as interesting as it all may seem to be, a name just tends to be just that, a name."

That got a perked brow from the farmer. "But you did start the conversation over my name."

Wheedle shrugged dismissively. "I was only playing around. I didn't think it would turn into an entire conversation."

"But talking to you like this is a lot of fun."

While it was rare to see such a divine fruit, Wheedle grabbed the golden apple from Lluvia's hand to take a bite from it. To his surprise, despite his lack of interest in food in general, the taste of it was better than he had expected. It was difficult for him to describe it in words, but not even sorry would wipe away the scowl on the farmer's face. If looks could kill, he thought.

Despite Wheedle knowing he had sealed his fate, he held the apple out towards her, so she could finally sink her teeth into it.

Once she took in the flavor, Lluvia hummed thoughtfully, before plucking the apple away from Wheedle. "You owe me for this," she said.