Andrew looked her over, scouring her face with his gaze and wanting to know her thoughts. He had found the king's letter laying on the floor in her wake. She had an impossible choice to make, and he didn't want to make things harder for her.
His dreams of her were doomed from the very start. But having her so close, under the eerie blue light of those beautiful butterflies, she seemed impossible to resist. He was a moth, and she was the fire, luring him with her light just to see him burn to ashes.
Andrew leaned in carefully, taking Faith by the waist, giving her time to make her own choice. She eagerly made it, rising on her toes to push her lips to his. Her hands slipped behind his neck to keep him still as she got what she desired.
