"Tch...tch...youth these days have no sense of decency," a middle-aged woman clicked her tongue as she cast a judging eye at the couple sitting on a bench beside the city street. She adjusted her handbag and shook her head disapprovingly before continuing along the pavement.
She was one of the many passersby, glancing at the bench before moving on their way and the fourth one to pass the comment.
At the bench itself sat Vlad. On his lap, Seraphina was sitting, her limbs still crossed around his body, her face buried into his neck. She clung to him like a child seeking refuge, her weight settled comfortably against his chest, her breath warm against his skin.
Vlad had covered her red head with his jacket in case someone might recognise her. His face carried a deep crimson hue, his breathing heavy as the warmth of Seraphina's soft body pressed against him. He stared straight up at the night sky, trying desperately to ignore the frantic beating of his own heart.
