... I'm sorry - did you say [ keep ] me ?

that's a relief - for a moment I was worried that I was going to have to remind you that this is the twenty-first century and you no longer get to just decide to [ keep ] people .

novel concepts such as mutual respect and engaging conversation .

such is life I suppose , but the right person stays , through doubt and flaw .

I'm still here - aren't I ?

staring .

eyes narrowing,,

she's never been one for blindly following crowds . . .

WELL- no . . .

a look of discernment as she more closely examines him from head to toe , gaze lingering . she wouldn't make him share anything he would not give willingly .

the harshness of fine features fades as a composed mask overtakes any trace of suspicion , leaving behind a small smile . she did , but she would not be admitting it.

petite arms twine over the swell of feminine chest , protective but not defensive . in truth , she had never imagined herself ever being married . and yet here she was , before him . no - for the first time she is imagining .

only one . and as it was she knew that man in particular did not want [ her ] within his fantasies , but only the shell of a girl who bore her face . she could see conversations about everything and nothing . shared pages and shared grips . early mornings and later nights .

and the truth of the matter was she could never love someone who saw her as nothing more than a [ possession ] and she would only ever marry for [ love ] . from her understanding , marriage was also pain through dismal nights and doubts and fighting , but always returning . . .

she has actively sought to never keep a single image scorched there upon tender brain - never allowing the fairytale princes from a thousand story books to imprint themselves upon her heart . she is a bit stubborn , if you haven't noticed . . .

fairytales are life sprinkled with magic , a wonderful escape , but only a a temporary one at that . a moment is just a moment . it cannot last - despite a thousand nursery songs she had sometimes still found her father humming . a moment could not last forever .

he can keep [ looking ] . it won't change much .

and yet there was a not so secret part of her that longed for exactly that , the ferocity of protests , a defense . she gives him a swiftly burgeoning look , fingers fiddling . . .

she hardly notices - what with her nose shoved in between the yellowing pages of novel , but that touch . . . [ that touch ] was unmistakable . and so the brunette stills her motions , finger carefully marking her spot within the book , tapping her foot once and then twice .