My dear.

Two syllables, but they were enough to catch her off guard again and again. She catches herself thinking about those words again, even if they'd been spoken weeks ago.

Love and companionship was something she's only ever seen, but not felt, she knew. And what interpretations of it she's seen had not been entirely the right idea, or the ideal at all.

Her parents had loved one another, she'd been told. But her mother had passed not long after she'd been born, and her father had never remarried.

"Okay. It should be easy enough."

And she sets to work immediately, plucking the tape measure and kneeling down beside the shrine.

Greyson Connors

It is still odd, she thinks, how perfectly natural and unnatural it felt for her fingers to be linked through his. He makes it seem like it is the most comfortable thing on earth, searching for her hand in any and all scenario.

How many days had it been since she'd first met him?

Why did her chest flutter just thinking about it?

It leaves her breathless by the time they come to a stop. The walk hadn't been tiring, not in the slightest, but her racing thoughts and her budding affection for the man at the end of her arm really stole the air right out of her chest.

"I don't mind."

Gwen smiles knowingly, squeezing his hand. That, too, felt natural and unnatural. He was now a part of her in a sense, another beating heart that she could feel just as strongly as her own. How funny.

She holds out her other hand, now, waiting for instruction or a tool to be placed inside it.

Greyson Connors

Gwen laughs, this time it is loud and barking. She shakes her head, greatly amused by his emphasis and the severity of his inflection. In the process of her laugh, she squeezes his hand and they step into the kitchen.

"Are you sure?"

But he is, because he sets to work right away. The woman is left to watch and wait, encouraging the brush of elbows and shared glances whenever he might turn around. Over and over again, Gwen finds his gaze which encourages another smile.

He was sweet and genuine, and she gravitated to that with ease.

Greyson Connors

"Were you? I would never have guessed. Is that how you fumbled your feet at the festival as well?"

Slowly, the reserved and stiffly polite young woman warms, her core qualities and confidence unearthed by his kindness and encouragement. It feels nice to hold his hand, even if its unfamiliar.

She glances up at him, holding her attention to him this time rather than look away.

"What would you like me to do?"

Greyson Connors

And just like that, what waning, nervous energy she had fluttering at her surface like an anxious bird by the window is renewed. He finishes her thought with the same one she'd been thinking and it brings her relief and comfort.

He might pull away but where his hands fall Gwen reaches for one of them. The woman's grip is still delicate, but she feels surer this time, less afraid of being out of line.

The moment she'd laid eyes on him at the festival, with his chin in the dirt near her boot she'd known.

"And the potatoes. You're awfully tardy, Greyson."

With her hand wrapped up in his, Gwen leads him into the kitchen with a teasing smile pressing grooves in her cheeks.

Greyson Connors

Gwen is the first to pause, giggling awkwardly, but happily, as she leans away to brush her nose and cheek against his chin. She doesn't quite look him in the eye, perhaps too embarrassed at her forwardness and courage to even consider it.

Even though he had been the first to encourage it. Even though the fire in her lungs and the drum of her heart proved to her that it had been her idea, too. That this had been something she wanted.

"That was.."

Greyson Connors

He had caught her off-guard, stolen away her senses and flipped her wide open on her belly. But the sensation had been intoxicating and overwhelming and addictive. Now that she's been given a taste, she can't get enough. In the heat of the moment, where she can't tell which way was up, she clings to jim with fervor.

The shy, bashful Gwen that Greyson had stumbled across was far from the real version of herself. She was battle hardened, seasoned, bold in all areas that didn't pertain to romance. In his arms she had, at first, been caught like a deer in headlights, but now she was adapting, understanding, overcoming the nerves in her chest and taking control of them.

For a first kiss, this was something else. And for a second kiss? Well..

His hands hold either side of her face, cradling her close to him. Her comfort presents itself in a smile against his kiss, on that she continues to indulge over and over until she is breathless and lightheaded.

Greyson Connors

This time, he blushes, or maybe he had been before but this time she sees it for herself. Gwen hangs on every word, her smile endless, almost aching.

"One more minute."

And this time, she takes the reigns. Though she's sure he wouldn't make any move to break apart just yet, she pulls him closer. The woman leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

Greyson Connors

Subtly, when he places his hand over hers, she shifts her fingers to allow this to slip through hers. It brings a smile to her face, one that only grows when he chuckles.

The sound of his laughter is contagious and addictive. She wants to hear more of it.

"Wow, yourself."

Greyson Connors

Their seven seconds in heaven stretch for what feels like far more.

Light-headed, dizzy, a little giddy, Gwen chuckles nervously when they finally part. Greyson's face hovers close to hers and she can feel his heartbeat throb against the palm of her hand.

Because somewhere in between their entanglement, Guinevere had smoothed her fingers against his chest to lose herself in him just a little bit more.

Greyson Connors

Gwen freezes, eyes wide as he leans in. Its as if the whole room has taken a collective deep breath, anticipation leaving the surface of her skin electrified.

To say something now would be to ruin the mood. To worry about if he pressed to close to her, it might transfer the stain from his shirt to hers, would surely ruin the mood.

She's never been kissed before.

Never felt the warmth of another's hands against her skin in quite the same manner. This was intimate. This was different and surreal and terrifying. She felt like a little kid, wide-eyed in wonder for a new experience.

She returns his kiss tentatively, evident in her inexperience and nerves. But he is warm and safe and kind, and she doesn't feel the need to run away.

Greyson Connors

He hasn't let go, and she hasn't pulled away. Somewhere in the midst of her confusion and anxiously beating heart she realized she didn't want to.

Instead of pulling apart, Greyson repeats her name. He reassures her again that the stain isn't a pressing issue, and she has to wonder why.

But before she has a chance to open her mouth again to question him, his other hand caresses her cheek. Nevermind his heartbeat, she worries he might be able to hear hers.

Greyson Connors

Her long-winded educational speech on stain removal is cut short for round two when he reaches for her hand. It surprises her and her fingers instinctively flex, squeezing his. But he brings a smile to her face immediately.

And then he says her name and it leaves her breathless and anxious all at once- but it isnt an unwelcome feeling. She stares up at him, wide-eyed and just a little bit confused.

"But Greyson, it will stain. That'd be a shame to ruin a very nice shirt."

Greyson Connors