The next day found him standing again in the hallway. He rotated in and out with his men. Being the senior Templar on the wing for that month, he didn't have to stand duty every day.
Or, better said, he wasn't allowed to stand duty every day. If he did, they would know.
They would know he wanted to see one of the women. They would know he wanted to be there for a reason.
He wanted to see her. He wanted to watch her rush past, her books clutched to her chest like the new, terrified littles.
She would scurry past, and he would stand for another hour or two, lost in thoughts of her.
There she was, coming down the hallway. She wasn't carrying her books as she usually did, pressed against her like a shield against the world. She was reading one, her brow furrowed between two red bows.
She looked up in surprise as he shifted his weight, and caught his eye. Her eyes darted over to Ser Willem, who was turning in circles, apparently trying to fix a buckle in the back of his armor.
Then, she smiled at him.
Her eyes darted back to Ser Willem, and she scurried away, faster than usual.
Andrew felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. She was so beautiful, so innocent, so sweet.
Ser Willem's laugh pulled him out of his reverie. "Darkspawn take it, she's terrified of you, ain't she? Though, I think she's terrified of her own shadow, but she's extra scared of you. I don't think I ever seen her take off like that." He laughed again.
All Andrew could think was that he was glad Ser Willem hadn't seen that smile. That beautiful smile, meant only for Ser Drass…and no one else.
Because Maker help him, if anyone saw that pure, perfect smile, they'd surely make that illegal, too.