The hothouse air was warm and comfortable to Annabelle as she lay atop Ansel who was stretched out on the large stone bench that Ansel had placed there after he had first encountered her there. Her cheek rested against his chest as his left arm encircled her waist possessively. His other hand was occupied with stroking her hair, which he insisted remained loose as it was so much easier to run his fingers through it that way.

They had been that way for hours but it seemed only moments to Annabelle.

“Annabelle?" Ansel said tentatively.

"Hmm?" Annabelle asked lazily.

When he took too long in answering. Annabelle opened her eyes...