He just never said it out loud.
"Arnold."
She called him with a voice that was both sweet and gentle.
She slipped her hand inside his coat, separated only by a layer of fabric.
Her fingers lightly grazed.
Arnold quickly grabbed the mischievous hand, "Hannah, don't move around."
"What did you call me?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright and sparkling.
Arnold corrected himself, "Hannah."
She nodded in satisfaction, then said, "I didn't move around just now."
Arnold looked down at his own shirt which was now disheveled.
"But last time in the dense forest you treated me the same way."
Coat, shirt, all of it...
She blinked, her lips curving up.
Her smile was sly, like a cat, like a fox.
Like all those carnivorous animals that use their fuzzy appearances to beguile.
But Arnold just liked her this way.
Liked her so much he couldn't stay away for even a moment.
Their relationship seemed like a one-sided tilt from Arnold.
