Proper courtship
The day passed at an agonisingly slow pace. Rosalie had found her way at the front of the house, sitting on a step watching the sunbow out. The sky dipped like a watercolour landscape of lilac and rose. "What is the lady thinking about?" he said, leaning on the bannister at the bottom of the stairs. Her head had been so distant she had not even heard him. Blake moved up the stairs and sat one step below Rosalie, he gently placed a hand on her knee, drawing circles with his thumb. "Nothing," she lied, "Liar," "How did it go with my father?" Rosalie asked, barely looking away from the God's art on the horizon. Blake said drawing out an 'm' on her knees, "Your father has given us his blessing," Rosalie broke into a smile of pure disbelief, "Really?" His fingers had moved on to trace a
- Writer
