These are the hands of fate,
You're my Achilles heel.
This is the golden age of something good and right and real.
"Austin please?"
"Ally don't look at me like that you know I can't handle it."
"Don't look at you like what? I'm not doing anything different than I normally do."
But she was and she knew she was. She had this look that she could give him and have him wrapped around her pinky finger in a second. And her in Times Square with the lights shining and the snowflakes in her hair it was particularly hard to refuse her.
"You're my Achilles heel." He said pulling her closer and burrowing his face into her hair.
"Oh that's a good song lyric! Can we go skating now?" She asked with that childish gleam in her eye.
"Yea babe we can go skating now." He answered laughing.