and then she tilted her head, looking at him, studying his features, his
bone structure, his nose, eyes, brows, forehead, wrinkles, mouth, chin, cheeks and beard. His hair. The way they fell and decorated his skull.
She was
intrigued by the strange language he spoke, its tempo,
intonation, melody. She found it suited his appearance, it matched his personality or what she knew of it.
She was drawn to his aura, aloof but warm, cool but curious, insecure but accepting.
He kept asking her things she did not understand with insisting, piercing looks. She smiled and nodded. She took the last sip of her coffee, stood up and sat down next to him cuddling up to his side and said in his language: "Bebbe, I really
do think we should
renew our vows,
hunni."
