Only 'cause there ain't a butterfly in the zodiac. Sorry your sign ain't as delicate and colorful as you are, sugar.

[ She smirks as she kisses him, hands at the sides of his face. Really, she'd never thought much about his sign before, despite being exactly the kind of person who enjoys articles about compatibility and how to interact with others based on what random constellation they were born under. It just didn't occur to her, possibly because he's so far removed from that culture. But now, she questions how she didn't peg him as a Taurus earlier -- it simply makes perfect sense. Her ignoring her own birthday boiled down to feeling like it would make her look foolish to care about her own day. Planning your own birthday party is a hallmark of loneliness, as far as she's concerned, because shouldn't that be the responsibility of others? It's just admitting no one cares enough to do it for you.

He moves her and she readjusts her weight, hips rocking against him. She bites at his lip with a chuckle and a hum. ] Can't wait. Maybe we can go to Aquila. I know where to get a good cake there, now.