When did it start?
Perhaps it was when he first wove the grass shoes and bent down to put them on her. Or maybe it was when, in the cold of the night, she unconsciously snuggled into his embrace while sleeping.
The faint affection, coupled with her interest in his body, was enough to prompt her to utter the invitation. "I want to make love with you," the witch, still accustomed to following social etiquette, whispered softly, "Do you agree?" It was nearing dusk.
The light in the woods was rapidly fading, casting everything in a blurry haze. Harrison couldn't immediately answer Margaret's request. His pupils contracted, and his usually calm expression showed rare fluctuations.
"To... with me..." The rest of the sentence remained unspoken. In truth, he had no words. He wondered if his partner truly understood what "Harrison" really was.
