She was going to murder him, she was going to grab that charming beard of his and drag him down in to a dark pit of darkness. Whilst, she would relax in the blistering France heat; and he would be suffering hell. If the reader wishes to know the victims of her murderous thoughts; it was Aramis. If the reader wishes to know why...well, perhaps the fact she was running from raging bandits may selflessly give a hint. Why, oh why could not he stop from insulting them with witty remarks? Weren't the sharpened knives a clue to button it?
Now, she was lithely dashing through an abandoned building littered with broken furniture, trying to no be pulled down by her long dress. His ...view middle of the document...
I will follow the second you move aside." Aramis stood backwards as though she would listen this every command. Did the wretched soul know nothing about his companion? Constance smacked her palm against his chest in protest.
"I am not jumping first, it will be the end of me!" She screeched, her canvas an expression of incredulity. The echoes of the angry men had loudened behind them, her angry expression was now masked with fear. Aramis waited for no invitation, he held Constance close to his body; reversing their positions with his back to the sky above them.
"You will kill me for this. Apologies in advance." He spoke so gently conspiratorially. Her luminous eyes widened as realization dawned on her. She commenced to shake her head furiously, Aramis' hands tightened around her bodice, their cheeks were pressed against one another.
"Don't you dare, Aramis. Don't you dare!" She screeched in fury. Aramis winked at her flirtatiously, as well as with one last glance backwards towards the advancing scoundrels; he suspended the two to their fall.
There was screaming.
There was laughter.
Then, the two finally contacted with ground, so as a result; the screaming and laughter had turned into groaning of discomfort. Their legs were entangled around each other, hay poking into the corners of their eyes causing extreme irritation. If the reader wishes to know how compromising their positions were, here is a hint; if Constance were to inch closer slightly - her lips would crash against his. Which the two did not fail to notice.
Silence descended as they watched each other in hypnotic mesmerisation. His fingers brushed away the golden hair away from her beautiful, bright eyes. The same fingers adventurously travelled down to trace her...