They stopped at one of them. Laurent plucked a white flower from the low-hanging branches, and lifted his hand to tuck it into Damen’s hair, as if Damen were a youth from the village. ‘Are you courting me?’ said Damen. He felt foolish with happiness. He knew courtship was new to Laurent, didn’t know why it felt so new to himself. ‘I haven’t done this before,’ said Laurent. Damen took a flower of his own. His pulse sped up, his fingers felt clumsy as he tucked it behind Laurent’s ear.
