Diz gave a soft smile, looking into her eyes. His left hand dropped to catch her right, holding it still, very gently. With his other, the pad of his thumb traced small circles at the corner of her eye, also very gentle, tender even.
When he spoke, his voice was low, just barely above a whisper. "Nyla...despite the fact that you run a business by yourself, in the lower districts even, you feed any who come to you. I saw that this morning. Your heart is tender and pure - I saw that when you were fussing over Thom this morning. And the street kids...free for them, too. If you're not a pillar of goodness, then condemn me now, because I have no idea what good is."
As he spoke, he leaned ever closer, his voice going lower almost with every word.
"Your beauty, even in an apron with your stubborn little curls flying over your face, is something that I can't compare anything to. And I love the way I can make you blush just by talking to you. Your laugh is easy..."
They were very nearly eye to eye now, and as he spoke, she would be able to feel his breath warm upon her cheek, only a hint of the two glasses of wine he had drank to be scented. This man was not drunk - he was in earnest.
"And you make me feel bright inside, just by being around you."
He stopped there, waiting to see if she would invite him further, standing with one foot beyond the brink, and the other just hanging onto the edge, teetering over a precipice, unknowing of what waited below.
He hoped it was her
