Silverlight Terrace blue

The herald's throat felt stopped up by the silence; he could scarcely even swallow in the scant space between them. He wanted to say something clever, but he found that all he could do was stand there with his lips parted and his eyes locked with hers. He had never seen so warm a shade of gold. Heat poured off of her and made his face feel hot.

He leaned closer, as if pulled by gravity, seeming not to realize what he was doing until his whiskers brushed hers. An all-over twitch reeled him back an inch or so.

"My apologies," he said in a rush, choking on the words. He cleared his throat, chagrined, and offered her a contrite but wild-eyed smile. "I forget myself. You..." He hesitated, and his smile became a little more natural, if not still slightly self-deprecating. "Well, it wouldn't do to place the blame on a lady. So I shall say no more."

His eyes twinkled merrily, but he still felt dizzy with her nearness.