Theron wanted to run after her.
He wanted to catch her hand, pull her back, and keep her there in that meadow for just a little longer. She was laughing as she ran away, sunlight catching in her hair, her smile bright enough to chase away shadows that had clung to him for years.
Watching her like this, free and happy, filled him with a warmth so unfamiliar that he almost did not know what to do with it.
But he stopped himself.
Instead, he remained where he was and simply watched her go.
His lips curved despite himself, and before he quite realized it, his hand rose to his mouth. A warm blush spread across his face, reaching even the tips of his ears.
"I kissed her," he whispered, half dazed, half disbelieving.
The smile on his face deepened.
He had kissed Aveline. Not because of instinct. Not because of dreams or confusion or some strange pull he could not understand.
He had kissed her because he wanted to. The realization settled softly in his heart.
