He drank her in.
He savored her.
Her looks were simple.
He treasured them.
She was everything.
He swept back his short brown hair. The smile -her smile- made his tongue tie itself in its own knot.
He gave a nervous smile, lungs constricting.
A contagious heat from her, which should have made him reflect, was overlooked now.
He fumbled over words.
Dimples widened as a strand of hair left its knot.
A hand came up and brushed it away with a loving touch.
All feelings of saintliness let fly.
No.
Neal awoke tangled in his sweaty sheets. Disgusted with his hormone activity, he thrust his bedclothes away, straightening his pajamas that his thrashing had twisted.
The night was calm. He was glad that he had left the ball early to unravel tangled heartstrings. His steps echoed through the grounds as he fathomed why he was so prone to heartbreak.
Next thing you know, you'll fall for the Stump.
Not too likely. But at the rate you're going, it could happen.
Why does love have to hurt to be true?
###
Voices interrupted Neal's self-debate. He saw Alanna and George together on the rim of the garden fountain, talking quietly. The faint sounds of the ball, voices and music, echoed through the night.
George...
###
She stood up at the sound of a constricted sob. Stood to see Neal's innocent, charming face stained with the paths of tears. To see the normally trusting eyes now with a shadow that flitted through them. He turned away, shuffling off in his blue pajamas, looking small and forlorn.
This has to be the first time he's cried in the last three years...
It's not his fault...and he...
At least I know now.
He followed her meekly when she told him to come outside with her at lunch the next day, wondering what she could possibly have in mind. Among these his own secret fantasies, of course. She seemed...nervous. It wasn't possible, was it? No, it couldn't be. She was too much older to have that in mind...
Alanna pulled him behind the shelter of a tree. She leaned forward, her intent clear, eyes closed.
Neal replied carefully, in a way Alanna would never have expected. His touch was naïve, slightly surprised, had a different taste than that of any other man she had loved...devotion spread thickly on his palette. She was annoyed to think it, but she liked his loyalty best.
He opened his eyes to stare deep into violet. His lips parted softly to her touch.
As little as she liked to admit it, she found her hands caressing his hair, her lips fondling his, putting more faith into her kiss she had ever given before.