Rogue

She'd gone over to see what his hut looked like and ended up spending the day. She couldn't remember time ever moving so fast in her life, but she sure didn't have a problem with it. Over the course of her life, she had attempted to go on dates, take leisure days, spend the time, but somehow it always seemed to end disastrously. The fact that this day didn't seem to be heading that route, that it had been nothing short of the sort of thing she'd dreamed of in her more private moments, well, she couldn't find herself anything but pleased by it. The sun was setting. When had the sun start to set? It had to be 9 o'clock, but then she reckoned it was summer, and the sun took its sweet slow time in summer.

She was leaned against the door frame, looking down the sand to the water, at the changing color of the sky, one arm bent above her head and the other draped on her hip, one leg absently tucked behind the other, shoulders prickling slightly with the late evening cool, uneven folds of her skirt brushing about her calves, tugging toward the sea.

"You sure picked a beautiful spot, Watchman."