[ It is cramped, and yet it's almost homey. The barrels and shelves of honey filter amber light, and it distracts Ivan enough for the loud accented noise of a woman greeting Firo to filter into white noise until he hears Firo reply. The laughter, the lilted tone behind new friend; Ivan turns back, curious and steady behind Firo's shoulder.
It doesn't mean he's at all prepared for the way the nondescript door and cluttered store gives way to the beauty of the speakeasy. He blinks, stepping forward onto clean, shiny floors, and looks around like he's never seen anything like it.
But really, he hasn't. Which means, when Firo asks, his answer is an honest: ]
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It doesn't mean he's at all prepared for the way the nondescript door and cluttered store gives way to the beauty of the speakeasy. He blinks, stepping forward onto clean, shiny floors, and looks around like he's never seen anything like it.
But really, he hasn't. Which means, when Firo asks, his answer is an honest: ]
It's wonderful.