Numair glanced over at Daine. She was cooking their supper for that night. He was quietly reading by their beds. Well, he wasn't really reading. Daine looked extremely beautiful tonight, and her movements were very distracting. As she bent down, strands of her hair blew over her shoulder and swept across her face. She frowned and pulled the lose strands back up into her ponytail.

Numair smiled. She was so adorable when she was frustrated. Suddenly she looked up at him and tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Is something funny?" she asked him.

Numair was startled. He quickly picked up his book, which had fallen off his lap and onto the ground. He cleared his throat. "Just something I read," he mumbled.

"Right.." Diane said suspiciously, and went back to her work.

Numair sighed to himself. She was way too young for him. Even if she was his age, there was no way she would love him back. Not in the same way. Numair snuck another peek at her, but this time she was looking right at him.

"Numair, is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, not really," he lied.

"Well, supper's ready," she told him, walking over to him and handing him a plate, before sitting down beside him.

"Daine-" he started, but Daine had said something at the same time. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he said.

Daine took a deep breath. "Numair, you know those stories of you and the.." she paused trying to find the right words, "um, women?"

Numair nodded slowly.

"Well, how old were they?"

Numair frowned. "Why do you ask?"

Diane blushed, "No reason. Forget I asked." She got up to leave.

"No stay!" Numair said, quickly. "Their ages ranged. The youngest was about twenty-five, and the oldest was my age."

Daine nodded. She seemed to ponder to herself. She took another deep breath. "What would you say to someone younger than that?"

Numair's heart began to beat faster. "I suppose it would depend on the person.."

"Oh."

They sat in silence until they both finished their supper. Numair walked over to the river beside the spot they set up camp. He washed the dishes, cleaned up, packed everything for the next day, and settled down. Daine, who was already in bed, rolled over, so that her back was to Numair. He was disappointed. She looked so peaceful when she slept, and he loved spending time just memorising her face. Regretfully, he rolled over himself, and tried to do the impossible task of ridding Daine from his thoughts so he could get some sleep.

Suddenly, he felt someone touching his arm. He tensed.

"It's just me." Daine whispered.

He flipped over and found himself staring into her eyes. They were so close, that he could smell her sweet breath. Slowly, he moved his lips closer to hers, never breaking eye contact. Daine closed her eyes and closed the space left between them, her lips delicately touching his. After a moment, Numair pulled back. He'd gotten caught up in the moment. They could never be together. What would everyone else think? She might not even love him like that. He watched as emotions flittered across her face.

Shock.

Confusion.

Pain.

Embarrassment.

Daine blushed a deep red that was plainly visible, even in the dark. She quietly rolled back over.

Numair had just grasped what had happened. "Dianne," he called softly.

Daine mumbled something inaudible.

"Daine, I love you," he whispered. She remained motionless. "I just think this is an awful idea. How do you know you really love me, since you're only young. I'm way too old for you. What would everyone think of us?"

Stayed quiet for so long that Numair was about to give up hope. Finally Daine whispered, "There is no other way to describe how I feel, other than love." Numair moved closer to her as she rolled over. "What does age matter?" He wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her hair. She laid her head on his chest. "No one else matters to me as much as you do."

Numair brought her face up to his and kissed her. Tentatively at first, but with each fleeting moment, all of his longings passed through his lips into Daine's. His expert tongue ran tenderly along the outside of her lips, feeling their smoothness. His hands were placed on the back of her neck and at her hip, rubbing each spot gently.

When they both needed air, they stopped and just lay there. Numair held her in his arms, and watched her fall asleep. He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Finally, you are my magelet," he whispered.