To most, Dianna's gushing and prattling about the geomorphology of archipelagos and their historical significance might have been a bore, but Felix was enthralled. If they were seated, right now, his chin would be on his hands as he listened with adoration and keen interest, hanging onto to every word and never interrupting. However, it was rather difficult to both stare at Dianna and blindly walk along the Valletta waterfront, especially when his nerves were making him feel increasingly faint and damp with perspiration as they neared the spot that Felix planned to propose to her. His hearing was a bit fuzzy and his mind was scrambling for words as the vibrant blue door loomed ahead on the wall of buildings they were strolling past and Felix's free hand (as Dianna was hugging one arm as she talked) instinctively went to the pockets of his slacks with two-fold purpose: to surreptitiously check that the ring box was indeed still in his pocket and to dry his shaky, clammy fingers. It was then that he realized she'd gone quiet and he chanced a quick glance at her before cringing softly when he saw that she was looking at him expectantly, as if she'd asked a question.

"I'm sorry," Felix said with a weak smile. "What did you say? I was thinking about how that door there matches your dress."