We met when he delivered something to The Inn. My bastard of a father answered the door, I was standing meekily behind him. I couldn't breathe when I saw him. I stood there, mesmerized, counting the freckles on his cheeks. He looked at me and smiled politely, turning on his heel and walking away. As father shut the door behind him, I couldn't help but sneak a peek out the window... and there he was.
For a few months after, once a week he would deliver something to our Inn. And once a week, I would get to see that beautiful face of his. The fourth month, I finally got the courage to speak to him. I learned that his name was Marius Pontmercy. He was twenty years old, only a year older than me. He lived on his own - his mother had died a few years prior. After a few days of talking, he and I became friends.
And I fell in love with him.