“There’s a bonfire outside.” Anywhere with her present would be the most romantic spot in Hell. “We could sit there.”

He wants to gaze into her sweet face all night, cherishing every little detail of her. He compromises by wrapping his arm about her shoulder so they can walk side by side, an obstacle barely paying attention to the world outside their bubble.

“There’s a poem in my world I just can’t stop thinking of when I see you:”

He leans down to recite for her

“An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.”