My pulse quickens under the weight of his gaze. Suddenly, I’m Elizabeth Bennett, feeling the passionate stare of Mr. Darcy. I am not the kind of girl who is accustomed to attention from the opposite sex. And I’m okay with that. I’ve accepted it. Although, I wouldn’t complain if some guy swept me off my feet and professed his undying love for me in a gazebo in the rain. A part of me does know that getting caught in the rain, even with Mr. Darcy, would not feel very romantic. I’d be sopping wet with mascara streaking down my face like a villain in a Tim Burton movie. But in the novels? Totally
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