Welcome to Gaia! ::

"No, I didn't. Thank you." Galatea's voice was soft and, if she hadn't been standing directly at his shoulder, he never would have heard her. As it was, she was close enough that he could even make out the unnerved pride and pleasure in her quiet tone. How anyone could blush in their voice was anyone's guess but Galatea apparantly could manage it.

Out of his line of vision, she let herself fidget a bit, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder and tangling her fingers in the end as she watched him intently. He was, well, fascinating.

The momentary burst of pride seemed to have loosened her a little and she muffled a giggle behind her hand. "I could draw them again in red then," she answered. "Like the house is. But then they wouldn't really be blueprints, would they? More like... Redprints."

"I don't know." Quietly, she padded closer, hair still tangled up in her fingers, and peered over his shoulder to gaze at her own handiwork. She made a note to remeasure the perimeter before starting the roof. The actual building seemed larger than the neat drawings in front of Hadrian. "Maybe it would tell us in one of the Captain's books. But I've never heard the term redprints before so I think I just made that up and they would still be, properly, blueprints. I think."

"I haven't decided yet." With a lopsided smile, she pulled her fingers from her hair and padded over to the pile of fabric and toothpicks and a lump of blue clay-like substance. Crouching down, she began sorting through it. "The Captain gave me many types of fabric. I have quite a bit of cotton in all colors and even some satin and some silk. I walked along the Captain's drapes the other day and I saw how they worked. I was thinking I might be able to do curtains with these things and use a toothpick as a rod." She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "But I can't think how to get it all to stay against the plastic. This... Blue Tack," she indicated the wad of blue beside her, "does not seem to be strong enough to support it all."

Suddenly, she pivoted on the balls of her feet and tilted her head to study him. "Hadrian? Do you have curtains and a door?"

Eyes completely intent and every-so-slightly-adoring on him, Galatea settled back more comfortably into her crouch, weight balanced on the balls of her little bare feet. "You do? How did you make them? Do they slide back and forth?" she asked.

Galatea nodded. Her heavy bangs slipped and fell into her eyes for a moment but her small hand was up instantly and pushing them back over to the side. Clearly, the way to her heart was showing knowledge about anything. Her pink eyes almost sparkled at the mental exercise. "Water-proof glue," she repeated. "I will have to find some of that. I hadn't even thought about the problem of stitching." She gave him another one of her strange half-smiles. "And I'm much smaller than you are, Hadrian. I would never be able to manage an actual needle."

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, clearly calculating hard. "Do you think that sort of glue would be strong enough to support the toothpicks?"

The excitement of the glue was abruptly forgotten as Galatea's face fell back to solemn at his stutter. Even the half-formed question of "would you mind helping me if I found some of that hot glue?" slipped from her mind. She stood and slipped over to stand beside him, almost touching. "Why aren't you calling her your mother anymore?" she asked, head tilted in concerned curiousity.

There was a moment of silence and then Galatea's fingers touched his shoulder, butterfly-light. "I promise I won't be confused," she offered quietly. "You explained it all to me that day on the log. It is good that you care about her so much and that she cares for you." She brought her hand away again and quickly folded fingers together in front of her as if to prevent herself from touching him any more. "It is very good."