Felix Frost could not believe it—here he was, sitting by the very fairy he'd so longed to meet! Dared he believe his good fortune?

When he'd seen her standing lost and helpless in the rain earlier, he'd gotten a shock; it was inconceivable that his fairy had stepped out in such a deluge. And yet, when he'd drawn near, his eyes assured him that he'd seen correctly. It truly was the fairy from the window. Whatever made her take a walk in such frightful weather? Surely she would've been safely indoors on a morning like this, by the window he loved to pass by. But perhaps this was the answer to his secret heart's desire, that he'd finally been given a chance to meet her.

Within minutes, with time to spare and an inescapable situation, the young couple soon fell into amiable conversation. Annemarie found out that the young gentleman who rescued her had a lot in common with her—he also preferred solitude to company one must fall over oneself to please, a good book to peruse under a shady tree on his estate to a 'garish gala' as he called it, and rendering melodies upon a favored instrument for oneself rather than for critics. They shared a love of literature and music, she discovered.

"Strauss surpasses with his compositions," the gentleman said with sparkling enthusiasm, "I do enjoy his pieces more than anything else. And you, Miss? Which of the greats do you prefer?"

"I adore Schubert and Rossini," Annemarie replied fondly, "although Verdi's operas deserve much credit."

"How fascinating," the gentleman uttered under his breath. "A lady of fine taste in music. I have met but a few whose interest lay in the arts, most I have are more trained in the fine art of gossip." Annemarie laughed out loud, tickled by the gentleman's sense of humor.

"I must confess, as intriguing as Hardy and Scott are, I find the underestimated female authors of our time sadly overshadowed," the gentleman continued in his discourse of the arts. "Miss Anne Bronte clearly outlines the far more realistic problems women might be facing throughout our country, exposing the true nature of condemnable men and their acts." Annemarie was pleasantly surprised; she'd never met a man who took the side of the opposite sex so strongly. Most of the frivolous swains she'd been forced to mingle with loved to laud the superiority of their own sex and the accomplishments their kind have achieved in history.

Here was a man without bias for his own kind, sharing his honest opinion.

"Indeed, sir, I find a ring of truth in every fictional work," she replied. "After all, if society will not permit the exposition of their works of darkness, one must resort to fiction to unveil the truth."

"How true," the gentleman nodded, "and yet fiction sells better than the flagrant dispatches overeducated sensationalists tend to publish." Annemarie smiled, amused by his humorous yet accurate statement.

"I see you are well-read, sir," she said in admiration, "I find it quite invigorating, sharing conversation with one well-versed in penmanship."

"As do I, Miss," Felix replied with a genuine smile, "it is not often I meet a young lady who can be of the same mind as me." His hand unconsciously enclosed hers, making her draw a sharp breath. But soon she relaxed, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his.

"Like-minded company truly is a treasure," she said softly. "I wish we could continue this companionship..."

"Perhaps we can," Felix replied with a warm gaze at her. "This need not be our first and last encounter." Annemarie found herself drawing nearer to the gentleman, her heart racing. What was it about this young man that enchanted her soul and filled her with strange longing?

Felix found himself also leaning closer to his fairy, his eyes captivated by the carnation-colored lips slightly parted in wonder. Would he have the honor of tasting those delicate lips?

But before their lips could meet, when they were simply a breath away, Annemarie pulled back, startled by a realization.

"Oh my... it stopped raining. And it's almost sunset!" She glanced at the now clear, blushing horizon, rising to her feet in dismay. She had spent the entire day here in the pavilion! How late it had gotten!

"Forgive me, Miss, I have kept you more than necessary," Felix apologized profusely although a weight of disappointment fell in his heart. "Please, let me escort you to the entrance of the—"

"Thank you kindly, sir," Annemarie intervened, shrugging off his coat and handing it over, "but I must leave at once, my family will be distressed at my long absence. I bid you farewell, and thank you very much once again for your kindness!" With that, Annemarie took off as lithe as a fairy, almost as if invisible, diaphanous wings carried her. Felix tried to call her to stop her but he sighed—she was already out of sight. Felix felt sorrowful; was that it? Was that all the time he'd get to spend with his dear fairy? He didn't even find out her name, how remiss of him! And they hadn't even said a proper goodbye... and how he mourned inwardly at his missed chance of tasting her lovely lips...

Now his fairy was gone.

With a woebegone sigh, Felix picked up his coat and umbrella and walked out of the pavilion, lone and lovelorn. He'd never felt like there weren't enough hours in the day until today; every one of them spent with his fairy would be a time he'd cherish in his memories. But how he wished it didn't have to end...

His eyes suddenly lit up in thought. Perhaps it didn't have to end. After all, he knew where she lived. He needed only to enquire after her. And if she had felt the same connection with him as he, perhaps there was still hope to win her heart.

☂