I sat quietly beside Poppy as she slept under the walnut tree, having fallen asleep mere moments after placing her cheek on my rolled cloak. I didn’t want to disturb her, but I also couldn’t stop myself from touching her. It was as if I were under some sort of compulsion. I’d readjusted the cloak draped over her half a dozen times. I’d toyed with her hair, smoothing the wispy strands that had fallen on her cheek, and then waited hopefully for the breeze to undo my work so I had a good reason for touching her again.
Ugh
