A/N Another installment is up! I hope you enjoy this one! Let me know if the fluff is tolerable. ;) Merci!

Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. Actually I forgot to put up a disclaimer for Prélude: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate, is from Shakespeare's sonnet No. 18, and How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame, which like a canker in the fragrant rose, doth spot the beauty of thy budding name, is from Shakespeare's sonnet No. 95

Dedicated to: Mozart's Concerto No. 20 — Romanze

Romanze

"Why, don't you look sharp," Dorcas said upon seeing Timothy at the elder tree. She ran up to him and he greeted her with a kiss.

"I am glad you find me so," he said, pulling her down next to him with a grin on his face.

"I trust your journey was well?"

"Very well, I thank you," Timothy replied. Dorcas grinned impishly and pulled Timothy in for another long kiss. She was surprised at how she could never get used to them; each kiss meant something, and each kiss made her feel… Made her feel as if she could have to relive that moment a thousand times, and she would still be perfectly content.

"How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame, which like a canker in the fragrant rose, doth spot the beauty of thy budding name," Timothy whispered in her ear with another affectionate kiss. Dorcas smiled under his kiss, surprised that he could still recall poems of so long ago.

"I have a confession to make, actually," she said, rather guiltily.

"And what may that be?" Timothy asked, gently kissing her cheek before pulling away.

"Even when you were on that stage reciting Shakespeare's sonnets, I couldn't help but think that you were quite dashing," she said, blushing slightly.

"Did you indeed? I have a greater confession to make."

"Well then, pray tell, what is it?"

"I have fancied you from the day you first came to deliver our postbag."

"Well, that is a shock then…" Dorcas said, though she was smiling. "Timothy…" she started.

"Yes, Dorcas?" Dorcas bit her lip. Perhaps she shouldn't; perhaps she should just let things continue as they were; there was no need to complicate things with love. Love made everything confusing and troubled, and once she said the words… There was no way back. She would either regret them, or be glad for them. But what if I destroy this? she thought. She enjoyed the easy conversations and the seemingly playful yet meaningless kisses. "Dorcas what is it?" Timothy asked, pushing a strand of hair off her face and tucking it back into her bun.

"I think I might… I think there may be a chance… that, perhaps, perchance… there is a possibility that— I love you!" Dorcas gulped hard before looking back up at Timothy who looked as surprised as she felt. "Please say something," she requested after a prolonged silence. Timothy pulled her into a gentle kiss.

"I love you too, dearest Dorcas." Dorcas sighed in relief and smiled again.

"I'm sorry; I was just so concerned that you—"

Timothy stopped her by placing a finger on her lips. "You need not apologize to me," he whispered, searching her eyes. Dorcas pulled Timothy into a brief but tight embrace.

"I must go," she whispered in his ear. "I'll be back tomorrow." And so she left, her heart feeling a good deal lighter than it did when she came, her mind much less troubled and conflicted.

A/N Enjoyable? Not so much? Leave a review, if you please! Danke. ~ the shattered star