Sunspire Mountains all the butterflies have turned to vultures in my stomach

He might have come close, a few times.

Maybe.

He kept his excitement at bay, though he never once forgot that she was willingly pressing herself against him. He limped as he walked, but it didn't matter -- Riley felt like he was a thousand feet above air, having Esme's skin setting rippling fire to his own.

He slowed as Esme's gaze narrowed, feeling fearful -- had he said something wrong? Was this moment ending? He half expected ridicule, and instead got a comment that was obviously pointed, but not obviously enough for the one brain-cell knocking around in his brain-pan.

"It's pretty there." Riley admitted freely -- it had exactly nothing to do with her point, but he didn't grasp that. "There's a river that goes through it." He wished he could explain how glorious the sight was -- of a meadow of scarlet sand, with a ribbon of reflective, brilliant blue cutting through -- how it looked like a fiery wasteland come sunset, how he could stare for hours..

He was no poet. Esme would never know. "Where do you live?" He suddenly asked, wondering in the next breath if he could edge in the suggestion they live together. Smirk.