The girl is now attempting to run through me, having vanquished my poor door, yelling in a voice that seems amazingly ferocious for her small frame. “Come on! Hey! Fifi wants to talk!”

Who the heck is Fifi?

She’s grunting as she repeatedly runs straight into my legs, her knees thwacking painfully into my shins. I suddenly hear running feet, and before I know what’s happening, the golden boy from the rose garden has appeared in my doorway. He appears to have run quite a distance, because he’s breathing heavily and his ginger curls - that bear a striking resemblance to the girl’s - are in disarray, tumbling over his forehead. A stray thought pops, unwelcome, into my head. Adorable. I shove it away, just in time to catch his next words.

“I’m so– I apologise for my younger sister, sir!” he gasps. “She ran off and I couldn’t stop her!” Then he seems to double take. “I– you were actually at the rose garden! That is– it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Felix. Taylor.” He extends a hand, long fingers lightly dusted with freckles. 

Ohhhh.

Not Fifi. Fe-Fe. Felix.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, overcoming my surprise and shaking his hand. “I'm Ari Banner, and yes, I was. In the Earl’s garden, I mean – I work there. And who’s this reprobate?” I flash a smile at the girl, who grins back, displaying an impressive gap between her front teeth. Felix laughs. 

“Cicilie. She’s almost eight summers, and she’s turned into an absolute hellion. I should know; I spend half my life chasing her around the county!” He gives me an amused smile over Cicilie’s head. I return it, chuckling. 

“Oh! She said you wanted to talk? What about?”

Felix smiles again.

“I wanted to say hello,” he says. “I thought I may have imagined you, like some weird effect of the heat. It just seemed so unlikely that you’d be there, given everyone else is indoors. It wasn’t difficult to find you, really. I just asked after a dark-haired gardener at the manor, and got pointed over here.”

I should probably be alarmed that everyone knows where I live. It’s hard to feel worried, though, with someone like him around. He eclipses everything around me; I make a high-speed decision to think about it later. 

“Well, do I seem real enough now?” I say, and poke him in the arm. Laughing, he clutches it in mock-agony.

“Oh, how could you?” he gasps, grinning. “The pain!”

Still laughing, I hold my door open wider, and, before I can overthink it –

“Come in,” I say.