[ It's Felix's fault, he supposes--he's too giddy, too dizzy on excitement that he's forgotten that this is the 80s. There are bad things happening, there bad people. People don't really accept this type of love anymore. As to why, Felix doesn't quite understand. All he does know is that it's bullshit, old habits die hard, and it's his dearest love across him, writing and laughing and being stunning. It's a bit hard to concentrate. ]

A mystery. That doesn't sound cliche in the least--danger? Intrigue? Romance? [ He grins, raking his teeth under his lower lip to bite down, intent. ] I'm a little jealous, I can't write to save my life.