He could sense her stiffness, but the darkness of the evening made seeing the color of her face difficult. He worried he'd done something wrong, but she continued without complain—a definite change from their former exchanges.

(Did he like it? He hadn't decided yet.)

"I was so prepared to get you out of trouble," he teased, his own cheeks flushing a subtle pink as she patted his hand. "but perhaps having you here might give me peace of mind for the moment. You wouldn't hate me for that, would you?" he continued with a wide, noticeably exhausted smile.

He tried to stand up—tried being the key word, as the moment he made it to his feet, he was landing on his knees and palms (which, unfortunately, were now stinging and likely bleeding) on the ground in front of him. He swore under his breath, his mind wandering to the spell that he'd been hit with earlier.

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