<div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i.imgur.com/NHlFgsv.png">[ img ]</a><br/><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #BF0000"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">You said you don't have to speak...I can hear you.<br/>I can't feel all the things you've ever felt before...</span></span></span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">• • • •</span></div><br/><br/>She didn’t realize the oddity of her question, but in the way he reacted, she was taken aback. His reply was so quick to slip free of his tongue, to wash over her like a quick wave before it vanished once more in the wake of a question; a question that held the entirety of her attention in that moment. “My Bellen,” he’d called her. But, she wasn’t his, nor should she have allowed such talk to continue. He was a stranger, one whom lived down the way and had spied her, who had come over to talk to her. No proper gentleman would have called another lady his without due cause or proper relations. …Yet, here he was, without correction or retreat, her head tilting by the smallest of margins as she continued to watch him. His own shifting was subconsciously mirrored, marred only by her hand reaching across her frame to brace against the cool of the night beginning its cool embrace.<br/><br/>Then came the moment that would prove her an honest woman, or just what her family warned against. It wouldn’t matter if anything happened or didn’t happen, but this would be the defining moment: whether or not she accepted his offer to show her the spot…and Bellen truly wanted to see the spot, if only so she could spend more time with him, speak more with him and learn more about him.<span style="font-style: italic">It’s not proper, and you know it’s not proper,</span>her mind chastised.<span style="font-style: italic">You shouldn’t even be <span style="font-weight: bold">considering</span> this request. An hour or a minute, it makes no difference. You’re not to leave the property with any man you don’t know, let alone unsupervised for those you do. Think of what would happen if your father found out.</span><br/><br/>It was the last thought that halted what could have been an agreement from tumbling free of her lips. “I cannot go to see this spot,” Bellen finally answered, her eyes dropping. “Truth be told, I shouldn’t still be speaking with you as we’ve carried on far too long without anyone else present…” Her eyes skipped back up to his, an apologetic smile on her face, sincere. Almost as though on cue, a strong voice was heard behind her, causing her cheeks to flush as she took several steps back to give more of the space that was suitable.<br/><br/>“Bellen, who are you speaking with?” her father asked, striding out confidently as her mother stood inside, watching from the safety of her window.<br/><br/>“Milek, father,” she replied, casting her eyes back toward him before bowing her head just a touch.<br/><br/>“You should be inside getting ready, not speaking with strangers.”<br/><br/>“Lo siento…” Without another look back, she went back into the house, ignoring her mother’s request to speak while feigning an inability to hear, as her father continued to look the newcomer up and down.<br/><br/>“So, Milek, what do you need? You’re not from around here; I never forget a face. I’m sure what you need is better served asking me rather than my daughter. Are you in need of directions?”