The Kiss

Her gaze landed upon him gentler than the forest breeze. His heart stopped as he stared back. They’d only left camp to collect kindling, but a different kind of spark ignited. Magnar hazily drifted towards Anselma until her back was against a tree. She sighed as her hands found his shoulders and her eyes closed. The kiss was soft and sweet. She breathed his name as their lips parted and lingered, hovering to touch again when--

“Magnar? Anselma?” Syndri called, walking up the way, “Brother, where are you?”

The couple giggled.

Another moment interrupted by the lad but cherished nonetheless.