A gentle wind breezed through the cemetery and the place where they stood, softly ruffling and wavering the pieces of both of their hair. Eve used one of her hands to stop her hair from hovering in front of her eyes.
Eve felt Vincent's coppery-red eyes staring at her, patiently waiting for her answer. But he hadn't posed it as a question but as a statement.
She remembered the time in the past, when she was invited to attend some of the townsfolk's weddings and she attended with a slight envy and sorrow. Knowing she would never have what the other people did. To be loved and proposed for marriage. And now that it did, it felt surreal.
Eve softly gulped the feeling of the butterflies fluttering in her chest, and asked him, "Isn't it too fast?"
