Green leaves smelling of clean, fresh earth, dangling above us like strands of fine pearls glistening in the sunlight. Wisps of bright, warm light stings my eyes as a cool breeze crosses my cheek I raise my hand, shielding myself from the elements. The stone statues come into focus, carved perfection looming over us in romantic protection.
I feel Christopher stir. His head still on my abdomen, arm wrapped around my legs. This is what we were meant to do. Days as beautiful as these are for picnics under the trees. Parisian fountains to sing soft lullabies as they gurgle forth with refreshing wisdom.
