Drabble (Mark and Siobhan)
He met her for a drink the next night. Her eyes shone across the table at him like they never had at work and with such unabashed promise that he could barely lift his glass. She smiled, aware of the hold she had on him, and bit her lower lip as he tried to speak, his tongue fumbling her name. When the breeze shifted and the apple blossom scent of her hair washed over him he stopped talking altogether. She reached across the table an took his wrist. This, she thought, is going to be easier than I ever imagined.