Tea time, finger paint and craft.

She slips behind him, unnoticed, as he walks into the dimly lighted room.

"What do you do here?" she asks. "You're never there for tea?"

He whirls, shocked and says, "Molly? What are you doing here? Get out!"

"Not until you tell me what you do here."

"He chuckles nervously and leans against a table. "You know, I used to think you were quiet."

"Don't change the subject."

He sighs. "Okay."

She peers around him. "Is that paint?"

"Yes. I mean, no! Uh, maybe…"

"But there are no brushes…" she walks over to one of his covered canvases.

"Mols, no!"Lysander calls, desperate.

It's too late, and she uncovers the canvas, showing little blobs of paint. Lorcan sighs, giving up.

"Do you fingerpaint?" she asks.

"Um… maybe?" he asks.

"I think it's adorable. One of the best crafts," she told him.

"Do you want to try?" he asked.

"Of course!" says Molly.

The two stand in front of a canvas to paint together, and well, if their arms brush a few more times than normal, it's really no one's fault.