I think that time has stood still, although I couldn't say for sure. The seconds tick by much more slowly when I'm with Lucy; at least I wish they did.

My eyes slide closed as her fingers comb through my hair, but I am woken from a trance by the heat of her breath on my face, sweet from wine. She kisses me, then, and how quickly I wrap my arms around her. I crush her to me. Our tongues stroke one another with a rightness I've never experienced, and I fist a hand in her hair, shaking with emotion as she gasps into my mouth. Her dress is grass-stained, I can tell, but she doesn't mind as she straddles me, tracing lazy circles over the fur of my hipbone, grasping at it when I kiss the base of her throat.

"My Tumnus," she whispers.

I whimper, of course, undignified and raw. I look up at her, the glow of the festival warming the soft lines of her face and neck as she looks into my eyes.

"Beautiful," I breathe.

"Make love to me, Tumnus," she commands and I cannot deny her.

After all, my decisions are hers to make.