Callie found herself a nice, quiet spot at the stern of the yacht where she could look out over the orange-tinted sea beyond which the sun was setting. She leaned forward to rest her forearms on the railings, a glass of champagne dangling loosely between her fingers as the warm breeze ruffled the skirts of her red maxi dress. It had been nearly impossible to find something that looked good with her strange, colourful skin but it didn’t seem like Atlantis was going to put her back to normal any time soon so she’d had to make do. Luckily, since she’d been on the yacht, her skin had been swimming back and forth between a lovely, warm tan colour and yellow, neither of which looked horrendous with the red of her dress.
The last couple of weeks since the Summer Solstice party had been full of ups and downs for Callie. Aurora’s departure had been a real blow and it had been especially poignant to discover that her friend had written her a “just in case” letter. On top of that, knowing that her friend might not ever get to see Regulus again was simply heartbreaking.
On the other hand, she had spent a wonderful night out with her mum - something she never thought she’d have the chance to do - and she’d met Paul, properly, not just because of some Atlantis magic. The time they’d spent together up on the mountain had been pretty wonderful and Callie had really struggled to stop thinking about those blue, blue eyes of his.
In fact, she realised she’d been subconsciously looking out for them among the crowd ever since she’d boarded the yacht. Straightening up, she turned so she could peer back into the press of people on board deck. She didn’t even know whether Paul was coming tonight. She wished she’d had the confidence to just text him and ask earlier in the day but, now they were out on the open ocean, all she could do was watch and wonder whether he was there somewhere.
Paul jumped at another invitation to an Atlantis party. The last one he had gone to had been a gift in disguise. By some twist of fate that hadn’t been shown to him, it had been Callie that he had kissed after that drink. After running into her while sobered up and sharing an experience so unique with her that he had done everything he could to commit it to memory for the generations to follow, he couldn’t get her off his mind.
He had gotten himself a new, eye-catching suit that seemed appropriate for the time period he found himself in. It was very different from the stillsuit he was used to wearing on Arrakis.
The cruise had set off and Paul had gotten himself a drink, wondering if it contained any weird magical thing that would make him kiss people. That week had seen him getting his first dose of Atlantis magic when he had suddenly been spirited away on a date. He had never heard of dates, let alone been on one, but Wendy had explained it to him. From what he understood, it was sitting down to eat with someone and getting to know them better. It was something he would like to do with Callie someday.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. His thoughts hadn’t been so occupied by a woman since Chani.
After wandering around a little, he eventually found himself near the stern, where he saw someone who looked remarkably like Callie standing at the edge. Her skin color was different, though, enough to make him wonder if he was seeing what he wanted to see and not reality. Cautiously, he approached her. The closer he got, the more convinced he was that it was her.
“Callie?” Her name came out as a question. He still wasn’t sure what he was seeing.
Callie spotted Paul as he approached her through the crowd and she sucked in a deep breath as she straightened herself up.
“Hi,” she replied. A smile had spread effortlessly across her face and, glancing down, she realised she’d turned a shade of pink - not just her cheeks, either. Her whole body had turned a rose colour. If she could have blushed, she would have done. She wasn’t great at hiding her emotions at the best of times but around Paul she found it impossible. She was incredibly pleased to see him, so much so she was feeling quite giddy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, motioning down at herself to indicate the unusual colour of her skin. “It’s an Atlantis thing.”
“I didn’t know whether you’d be here,” she carried on, choosing to try to move on quickly from the subject of her colour change as she felt the familiar butterflies beginning to flutter in her stomach. “But I’m glad you are,” she added.
Paul didn’t return her greeting right away. He was too busy watching wide-eyed as her skin changed color right then and there. The new color looked like a blush had spread over every inch of the surface of her skin. He had always had a good sense for reading people to the point of it being a supernatural ability and he could tell she was embarrassed by her little Atlantis problem.
If it could be considered that. He found that he rather liked it and the fact that he knew right away what she meant by it being an Atlantis thing showed him how well he had adjusted to the place.
“I could not pass up another Atlantis party after the pleasure that the first one brought to me.” He smiled, reaching a hand toward her. “I think your Atlantis thing is delightful. May I touch you?”
Callie’s breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart flutter wildly in her chest but still she nodded. The idea of Paul touching her again was incredibly appealing and she couldn’t help hoping that doing so the first time, at the Solstice party, had been part of that pleasure he was talking about. She had certainly enjoyed it, just as she had their conversation up on the mountain.
Paul closed the remaining distance between them, his hand landing on her forearm. He expected it to feel feverish as skin that color usually was, flushed and warm, but it felt normal under his fingertips as he brushed them across her rosy-colored arm until he reached her hand, which he took in his. Giving it a squeeze, he leaned in to shyly press his lips to her cheek. He wasn’t under the influence of anything so he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.
A little shiver of excitement ran through Callie’s arm, radiating out from the point where Paul’s skin met hers. She let her pink fingers entwine with his, glancing down at their hands momentarily before returning her focus to Paul’s face.
Feeling as though she’d forgotten how to breathe, she watched as he leaned in towards her, aiming to kiss her cheek. Before she gave herself much chance to think about it, she turned her head towards him to capture his lips with hers. She had wanted to kiss him on the mountain and had been regretting not doing so ever since. She wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity now.
Paul had expected for his kiss to land where he had intended it to so he was surprised by the sudden change, momentarily stiffening before he gave into it. He had not wanted to step over any invisible lines. Having been raised as the heir to an entire House, he had been well-schooled in manners. She had given him all of the permission that he needed. His free hand raised to cup her cheek and, his shyness forgotten, he returned her kiss with equal fervor. Much like their first kiss, he was going all in, but this one was different. There was purpose and feeling behind it.
Callie had thought their first kiss had been good but this… this was better. She had thought he was going to pull away for a moment, when he’d hesitated to respond, but the moment of tension had passed and, in its place, ignited passion and intensity.
Paul’s intensity was one of the things that attracted her to him, she realised. He was so unlike the boys she knew from school or even the men she’d met here. None of them had been able to spark her interest or curiosity but Paul was different. She felt as though he was looking deep into her whenever his strange, blue gaze was fixed on her. It unsettled and excited her all at the same time. She was completely enthralled by him.
She untangled her fingers from his and let her hand slide up the front of his suit jacket, first to his shoulder and then onwards to the back of his neck, as she gave herself over to the delicious sensation of his mouth on hers. Eventually, she pulled back just a little to peer up at him nervously, although her fingers continued to run through the dark curls which brushed the collar of his suit.
Paul was a very intense sort of person. He had to be, he was born to be. His entire purpose laid out before him, something that he had willingly sacrificed a normal life for. Callie was uncharted territory, though, and he relished that. The unpredictability of it held his interest, her world and her magic intrigued him, and it certainly didn’t hurt that she was beautiful. He was no virginal religious figure. Paul knew how to kiss and he had fathered a child. Normally, he was more discreet with his passions, but he was too thoroughly caught up in her to want to stop due to a small nagging thought in the back of his mind that they were kissing in a very public place.
He would have kept going, her fingertips at his neck egging him on. When she pulled back, he sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, his lips still but a breath away from hers. He kept his hand against her cheek, noticing that she had changed color. His fingertips brushed against her purple skin. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Callie…” he trailed off, unsure how to say it. “I learned about what dates are recently. More Atlantis stuff. But it is people eating together and getting to know each other, yes? They have that where you are? Would you do it with me?”
Once again, Callie got the distinct impression that she would be blushing if her skin wasn’t deciding its own colour. She felt almost tingly from the adrenaline coursing through her body and the touch of his fingers on her cheek was intoxicating. She found that she was subconsciously leaning her face into his touch.
A grin spread across her face as she listened to Paul explaining what dates were and she lifted her free hand, with the champagne glass still dangling between her fingers, to drape around his neck. It was a beautiful juxtaposition: this incredible person with an incredible destiny and incredible powers yet, until recently, apparently, no idea what a date was.
“Yes, we have dates in my world,” Callie told him, her eyes sparkling, the edges happily creased. “And I’d love to go on one with you.”
She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that the dark purple skin of her bare arms was fading slightly to a lighter shade.
“Are you… well, do you have any other plans now?” she asked, sounding a little uncertain. She assumed he wasn’t about to rush off anywhere, judging by the fact that they were on a boat in the middle of the ocean, but you never knew in Atlantis. “It’s just that there are a couple of really nice restaurants downstairs on the lower deck and…” She trailed off. The truth was that she didn’t have anyone else she’d rather spend her evening with.
Paul had never been able to go on dates. Most of his relationships had been determined by other people or other outside factors. When he had won his first ritual duel, he had also won the dead man’s wife and children. He had taken her on as his servant, a position that greatly benefited her as he rose to power. There had been Chani, of course. He had fallen hard and fast for her, skipping courtship rituals, making her his concubine. The Princess Irulan he would take as his wife, a politically advantageous marriage, nothing more.
As such, dates were completely foreign to him, but it sounded like a pleasant enough ritual. After leaving his sudden date with a woman named Wendy Darling, his thoughts immediately drifted toward wanting to take Callie on one.
A boyish smile slipped onto his face as she agreed to go on one with him. He watched, awed as her skin shifted color to a lighter shade of purple. “I have no plans,” he confirmed. His only hope for the cruise was to find her again. “You mean we can go on the date now?” Paul leaned in to kiss her again, light and sweet. “I would like nothing more.” He dropped his hand from her cheek, holding it out for her to take.
Callie was ready to get lost in his kiss again but this time it was fleeting. She had to take a deep breath to collect herself as she lowered her arms from around his neck and stepped back, putting a bit of space between them. Her lips were still feeling hot and tingly from his touch as she pressed them together, the edges still turned upwards in the perpetual smile that seemed to have taken over her face, before reaching out to take his hand.
Callie watched as the waiter left their table with their orders before she turned her gaze back to Paul. They were alone again. She realised that she liked it that way. She was quickly becoming addicted to the way he made her feel: the nervousness, the heart racing, the excitement. Their table had an incredible view of the island’s coastline but Callie’s attention was wholly focused on Paul.
“This is nice,” she said honestly, her finger playing absentmindedly around the base of her champagne flute on the table.
Paul was quick to realize that there was something different about the date he had spontaneously chosen to go on. It hadn’t been a random Atlantis thing. The choice had been his. He reached for his freshly topped off water. Already on his second glass, Paul still could not keep himself from binging on fresh water at every opportunity. He gulped down half of it, licking his lips with a satisfied expression on his face.
“It is nice. Now we can get to know each other better.” As far as he knew, that was the whole point of a date. He wondered why the tradition had gone away as the centuries had advanced forward. “Would you tell me more about your homeworld?”
Callie watched Paul’s tongue move across his lips, capturing every last drop of water on them. She couldn’t help swallowing herself, as though she could taste the water there. She remembered what he’d told her about his home world being a desert planet. Suddenly the greedy way he gulped down the water made sense to her.
To distract herself from the sight of Paul’s moist lips, she lifted her own champagne glass, which the waiter had topped up for her, to her mouth and took a small sip.
“What would you like to know?” she asked, lowering the glass back down to rest on the table in front of her. She wasn’t sure where to start. After everything he’d experienced in his own world, she couldn't even begin to imagine what he would find interesting.
Paul had lived on Arrakis long enough to be fully programmed not to let a single drop of water go to waste. It made him cringe to so much as waste his own sweat, letting it evaporate without trying to capture it somehow, and the amount of water people wasted showering seemed like a horrific crime.
He glanced at the bubbling liquid in Callie’s glass. “What is that drink you like so much? May I try some?” Endlessly curious about the new world around him, he liked to sample as much as he could before he was spirited back to the barren landscape of his home.
“What did you do every day? What was a normal day like? It may seem boring to tell me, but I can assure you it will be so different from mine that it will not be boring to me.”
Callie glanced down at her champagne and nodded readily before pressing the glass across the tablecloth towards him.
“It’s a type of sparkling muggle wine,” she told him. “They tend to serve it a lot at events like this.” She’d never drank it before coming to Atlantis but she’d found she had quite a taste for it.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath as she tried to order her thoughts. “So, I was at school in my world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a boarding school, so we all lived there, apart from holidays. I was just about to go into Seventh Year, that’s the final year, and I was studying for my N.E.W.T.s, which stands for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. I was taking Transfiguration, Potions, Astronomy and Charms, so it was kind of a lot of work but I’ve never been one of those people who’s just at school for the qualifications. I actually like learning, if you know what I mean. I got pretty good grades in my O.W.L.s - those are Ordinary Wizarding Levels - so they let me take an extra subject for N.E.W.T.s.”
She paused, lifting a hand to run through her dark hair as she thought. Her eyes had taken on a far off look as she described her life at home. It was strange, thinking about it now, after seven months in Atlantis. It hadn’t escaped her attention that she was describing her life there in the past tense.
“We were all sorted into houses when we started school,” she explained. “I was a Ravenclaw - we tended to be academic - and there are three other houses which attract people with different traits, like bravery, ambition and… well, Hufflepuffs are just generally lovely. I was a Prefect too, so I had a few more responsibilities than other people, like looking out for the younger students, supporting the teachers, tutoring, those sorts of things.” She trailed off, her gaze returning to Paul.
“Sorry. That was a lot of information, all in one go,” she said with a little chime of laughter, shaking her head in apology.
“Sparkling muggle wine,” Paul echoed, lifting the glass and eyeing it curiously. He drew it closer, smelling it, tiny fizzy bubbles popping onto his face, making him squint on instinct. Bringing it to his lips, he took a small sip of it. He had never had anything carbonated before so he wasn’t sure what to think, the fizzy bubbles now on his tongue, slipping down his throat. “Oh.” It felt like bubbles were in his nose too, and it made him want to sneeze. “That is interesting. Not a sensation I have had before.”
Setting the glass back down in front of her, he let out a quiet burp before settling in to listen to her explain her days on her homeworld to him. Normally, he sat like he had been trained to, never with his back to the door and always at attention, ready for anything. Even though Atlantis was at war, it was far safer than Arrakis was and if he wanted to, he could start letting his guard down, but he didn’t dare. He liked to have every nerve standing at attention. Her story, however, had him leaning forward in his chair, listening with rapt attention. “They truly call the tests Nastily Exhausting?” He could have said the same for some of his lessons with Duncan Idaho or Gurney Halleck. “You have Houses as well? Our worlds have that in common.” He smiled over at her. “Your school sounds like a wonder.”
“Yes,” Callie replied with amusement. “And, believe me, it’s an accurate description.”
She picked up her champagne flute again and lifted it to her lips to take a little sip. She might have been imagining it but she was sure she could taste the wonderful, musky scent of Paul on the glass, where his mouth had been only minutes before. She savoured it.
“We have school houses, yes, although I think your houses are more like our wizarding families. Like dynasties, right? Some are really old and they’re all interwoven through marriage and family and…” She lifted her eyebrows. “Well, and school, I suppose. Or training, in your case?”
A short, amused laugh slipped past Paul’s lips at the confirmation that there was, indeed, exams that were officially called Nastily Exhausting in their world. “That is funny. I am surprised that they would be so bold as to call their exams something so negative.”
He watched her take a sip of her bubbly drink. It seemed to suit her. That she would like a drink so effervescent. “Dynasties, yes. Houses where I am from are all ruling families with entire planets as their territories. House Atreides had Caladan before we had Arrakis. The Emperor at the time forced our move to Arrakis. My father knew it was a trap but he could not disobey.” Paul reached for his glass of water, gulping down the remainder. “To make a long story short, I am Emperor now. It doesn’t matter here and I do not mind that.”
Callie found herself completely captivated whenever Paul spoke about his home. The more she learned, the more she wanted to know. Although she wasn’t aware of it, her skin had gradually been turning a greenish shade of cyan as he spoke, a reflection of the genuine interest she felt. However, she couldn’t hide her surprise when he told her he was an Emperor, not least because of her skin’s sudden return to a giddy, pink colour. Emperor of what? The universe?
“Messiah and Emperor?” Callie asked, her eyebrows sitting high up on her forehead. “You’re making me feel really out of my depth here,” she laughed, shaking her head as she looked down at the table in embarrassment. She remembered what he had said about enjoying being ‘just Paul’ with her but he was clearly so, so much more. She couldn’t help wondering what on earth he found interesting about her. She was literally nobody. The fact that he was bothering with her at all made her head spin and her heart hammer.
The normalcy of what they had was exactly what kept Paul coming back. It was what kept her on his mind when they weren’t together. Their first kiss had not been of his own volition but that hardly meant anything now that they had kissed again by choice. When he meditated and retreated into the vast landscape of his mind, he deliberately tried to steer away from anything more about Atlantis. He found that he didn’t want to know. Not knowing was a part of normal life.
“I would not have chosen either for myself. I was only supposed to be a future Duke.” Setting his glass down, he reached for her pink hand. “It does not matter here. Just like your Nasty exams.”
The reassured smile which spread across Callie’s lips was small at first but grew wider at the touch of Paul’s hand on hers. She watched as his fingers intertwined with hers, letting him move her hand towards him so the pair of them rested comfortably half-way across the table.
She nodded, probably a beat later than she could have done. She wasn’t entirely sure he was right, that it didn’t matter, but she remembered what she’d told him on the mountainside, that she didn’t have any expectations of him, and she wanted to be true to that. She wanted to give him a chance to be the person he had never had the opportunity to be at home. Wasn’t that the chance Atlantis had given her, after all: the chance to be someone other than the orphaned Spinnet?
“Tell me about Paul,” she said, raising her gaze to his face again.
She studied him, the fine cheekbones and sharp jaw, the heavy lidded, blue on blue eyes, the slim but beautifully sculpted lips which could turn, so easily, into the kind of smile that made her feel dizzy. If his titles and his destiny didn’t matter, what did?
Paul looked at their hands, hers a completely different color to his - a beautifully unnatural one. He did enjoy the particular Atlantis Thing that was plaguing Callie at the moment. The fact that it was based on mood didn’t register with him yet. He was too busy with his own moods. She had him feeling warm inside.
His titles and destiny did matter, just not on Atlantis. None of it bore any weight there and that was what he enjoyed most about his time there. He could figure out what he could be like without the expectations of multitudes being laid at his feet. Looking back up at her, he let out a little sigh.
“I haven’t gotten to know Paul very well. That is the trouble with power. With being a leader. You have to concern yourself with others above yourself at all times. I was never given a chance to know a personal life. I never got to be a family man.” He frowned, giving her hand a light squeeze. “I did have a son. He was killed in a raid. Barely a toddler. My desires are simple. I only wanted to have my family, but I was busy, I was far away when he died.”
Callie felt her breath catch in her throat. The pink colour drained instantly from her skin and was quickly replaced by a shade of deep, cyan blue as she processed what Paul had told her. She knew the grief of losing a family member only too well but she couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain someone must feel when that family member was their child. She had been so young when her mother died and her father had been sent to Azkaban that it felt like a distant, if terrible, nightmare. For Paul, the grief must still be very raw, not to mention the sense of regret he must feel for not having been able to intervene. How many times had she wondered whether she could have done something, anything, to save her parents, if only she’d understood the danger they were in?
It took her a moment to find her voice and when she finally did speak it was little more than a whisper.
“I’m so sorry.”
Paul watched as Callie’s skin changed color yet again. It was that change that made him wonder if the colors were reflections of changes in mood. He would have asked, he would have pointed it out as a theory if he wasn’t lost in his own mood. After hearing the news that his son was dead, he had barely given himself time to grieve. His loss was recent, not long before he had defeated the Harkonnens and become Emperor - and then found the coin.
“He was called Leto, after my father.” He sighed, looking down at their hands, his thumb grazing against the back of hers. “That is the Paul I wanted to be: the father, the lover. Not Paul the Duke or Paul the Emperor or Muad’Dib the Messiah.” His gaze lifted back to her face. “Am I doing poorly on the date? I do not think I am supposed to make you sad on a date.”
Callie followed his gaze down to their hands. The movement of his thumb against her blue skin sent little shivers through her, as did the way he said the word ‘lover’. It had dawned on her, however, that the existence of a child meant that there had been someone else who had known that version of him. She wanted to ask about the child’s mother, who she was and what she meant to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She was afraid of what the answer might be.
“No,” she breathed in reply to his question, quickly lifting her gaze back to his face. A small frown of concern was nestled across her forehead. “No,” she reaffirmed. “You’re not doing poorly at all. I can’t imagine how terrible losing your son must have been but it’s important to you, so I feel really honoured that you would want to share that with me.” She realised that she had been squeezing his hand as she spoke.
“I’m here because I want to get to know you,” she told him quietly. Her stomach squirmed nervously as she carried on, “The fact that you make me feel... that’s part of why I like you. And I like you... a lot.”
Paul felt her hold on his hand tighten in a gesture that brought him reassurance. He did not want to ruin what they had. In all of his worldly wisdom, he couldn’t pin it down. He expected that, though, because matters of the heart were always delicate. Chani was out there somewhere but he could not deny that he was feeling similarly toward Callie.
“Telling you was the only way I could think of to answer about who I really want to be. I have no reason to be dishonest and now you know the personal parts of me in addition to the public.” Father was a title that he had not gotten to wear long enough. “I like you a lot too. It is mutual.” He offered her a smile, hoping to lift the mood. “I think that your skin changes according to how you are feeling, don’t you think?”
Callie returned his smile, although her emotions were still feeling rather raw and horribly exposed by her colour-changing skin. As he’d been telling her that he felt the same, she’d watched her arm turn light purple on the tabletop.
“Yes, I do,” she agreed. “I didn’t realise straight away this morning but I’m completely sure now.” Being around Paul caused so many different emotions to race through her in quick succession, it was easy to track the changes on her skin. The pinkness seemed to correlate with the nervous excitement he made her feel just by being nearby and looking at her with that intense gaze of his. The blue colour was, unsurprisingly, sadness, although it seemed to take on a cyan tone when she was sympathising with his pain. Gold, yellow, tan and other shades in that family seemed to be related to happiness. Purple, however, was a new one. She thought it might be related to the warm glow she was feeling deep in her chest as she sat there, hand in hand, across the table from Paul.
There was a movement to the side of them which registered in Callie’s peripheral vision. Looking up, she saw the waiter returning to their table carrying two plates of food.
The color changing never got old to Paul and he marveled at it again as he watched it turn a shade of purple. He didn’t know what that meant, only that her mood had shifted again to something unidentifiable, not easily identifiable on the outside. “What does it mean?” he asked her. “All of the colors.” His next question, to bluntly ask her how she was feeling in order to have purple skin, was cut short by the waiter’s arrival.
“Thank you,” he said politely to the waiter as his plate was set down in front of him. “Could I have some more water, please?”
After his empty glass was filled yet again, he couldn’t help but stare at it, the condensation dripping down the side. The wealth of water on Atlantis still seemed unreal to him, too much like a dream. There could not possibly be so much water in reality.
But this wasn’t Arrakis.
He licked his lips, resisting the urge to down that glass of water before even tucking into his meal. Focusing back on Callie, he asked again about the colors. “What do they mean?”
Callie thanked the waiter and took a sip of her champagne while she waited for Paul’s glass to be refilled. It was fascinating to observe his reaction to water. It made Callie want to ask more questions about his home world, to try to understand what his life had been like there, on the desert planet. Still, Paul had asked his question of her first.
“You can’t guess?” Callie asked, looking down at her plate with a bashful smile. She knew she wasn’t difficult to read, even when she wasn’t changing colours. She concentrated on picking up a fork and prodding at her food before chancing a glance up at him.
“Purple is a nice feeling,” she told him, the colour of her skin developing into a darker, violet shade as she spoke. “Hearing that you like me too makes me feel purple.” She paused, noticing the most recent change, as subtle as it was, before shaking her head with a little laugh. “And apparently wanting to tell you that makes me feel violet.”
Paul shrugged slender shoulders. “I can tell a lot through body language and tone of voice, but the subtle changes in color, when you go between different shades of the same color, well, that was stumping me a little.” He appreciated the explanation. “It is a romantic feeling? Then we must be doing this date thing just right. Sometimes it can be for romance. That is what I read when I consulted my tablet, though I do not trust computers that much.”
Picking up his fork, he began to politely eat his food. “I would like to keep seeing you like this,” he told her, between bites. “Let’s not make this the last time.”
“We don’t really use computers in the wizarding world,” Callie replied. She could sympathise with his distrust of them, although, on her part, she often just forgot that they were available to her here, rather than pursuing an active agenda to avoid them.
“But it’s sounds like what you read was right.” In her experience, dates could be romantic or sometimes they were fun and energetic, sometimes they were quiet and peaceful. The key factor was the enjoyment of time spent together and she was finding, more and more as her knowledge of him grew, that she immensely enjoyed being with Paul.
She watched him as he began to eat, a smile rising to her lips. “I would like that too,” she agreed. Another moment passed but eventually, once the butterflies had settled in her stomach once more, she picked up her own knife and began to eat.