I own nothing.
---
Hold me down, Sweet and low, little girl.
Hold me down, and I'll carry you home.
---
It wasn't as if he'd never looked at her before.
Because he had.
And it wasn't as if this was the first time he noticed the curve of her waist or the small mole on the base of her neck.
Because it wasn't.
But this time was different, somehow.
This wasn't Gwen.
This was Gwen.
This was magical and fiery and passionate.
This was the flame of her hair and the cotton of her dress.
This was the subtle sugared scent that wafted from her, and the chip in her tooth you'd only notice from a certain angle.
This was her laugh and playful eyes.
This was him loving her.
Exploding, expanding, drifting into space.
An implosion of fireworks and then a blackness that rang with her voice.
---