He looks right through her sometimes. It's disconcerting. (And worse, she's glad of it. After so many years of being invisible, it's a welcome relief.)

She catches his hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. Her eyes close and she tries to honour his request, nuzzling against his skin, against those devilishly clever fingers.

"I think..."

She starts and stops again, her brow knitting, the revelation surprising her even as she forms the words.

"I think I'm falling for you."