Bwahahaha! This feels good!
Her smiles inspired him. They made him feel invincible. He was capable of turning up those soft lips, lighting her eyes up with a quiet delight. He lived for that smile and it swept him into a gentlemanly role, eyes on her always, soft with his feelings. When she tentatively accepted the flowers, his heart danced with joy, hand tingling as her delicate fingers brushed his own, ever so slightly. She was soft, unbelievably so, and he was embarrassed by how his own fingers would feel to her. They were large and calloused, typical working hands whose upkeep fell behind the numerous projects that kept him busy. He pulled his had back swiftly, almost ashamed. But that smile – it could cure anything. So could her voice. His ears swiveled to catch her gentle words, quivering slightly as her voice caressed them. He was unimpressed by her declaration of the flowers' beauty. There are prettier things. He smiled shyly and his gaze swept over her form, pausing at her stomach, tracking the water that dripped from her fur. It was a subtle look, gentle and shy as his manners were. He hoped she didn't notice.
At the prospect of visiting her more often, spending time with her – well it set his heart off again, and he was afraid he'd never get it back. He smiled, abashed and incapable of proper speech. He managed a soft “okay, sure”, the most romantic lines in his repertoire. But it was at her last words that he managed to succeed. Feeling as if he was almost out of his body, he dipped his head and his hand trailed up to his head, tipping an imaginary hat. His eyes held hers and his small smile tugged at his lips. His eyes were alive. Why you did, miss.
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