Her assumption was not too far off from his own. In the midst of her anger, he'd almost done as much through letter, and if she hadn't begged him for an in-person meet to explain herself, he likely would have.

"I- I was going to," he admitted, his chest shaking as he stumbled over his words. "But I couldn't find the words. I've always considered myself a man of logic, but it seems you've managed to dig out my heart." Oh what a damn sap he was being; it was so unlike him, yet the words left his lips with such ease.

He was never supposed to love. He was never even supposed to like. Love had seen his mother heartbroken and his father left with a distrust of marriage, and he'd always imagined he'd end up some old bachelor. However, he couldn't think about that right now; any more sappy thoughts might see him run off to find a rose bush in this long-abandoned garden, and he didn't think he could bear the teasing he'd face when she returned to her senses.

So he did the only thing that would ensure he would shut up: he leaned down and kissed her.

It was a full, tender kiss, and one much different from the passionate, heated ones. It was also accompanied with a jolt entirely different from the one of desire he'd felt before; he felt like he was melting rather than being set ablaze, so much so that he could feel the gradual heating of his cheeks.

Insufferable, irresistible, lovable woman.

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