From the porch, cradling his legs, his eyes roved with their innocent shine every one of the stars hanging from the sky to the rhythm of the gentle spring breeze. He was careful to greet them all with a smile and to occasionally caress the blue velvet that stretched over his head with one hand, while his index finger traced the shape of the moon.

Wanting to take the most from the moment, he turned slowly and watched the sway of the evergreens which danced and fluttered with the wind before him almost unrealistically, ethereally, like fireflies. He breathed deeply and thought, maybe spring was the most perfect of the seasons.

Before he could see her, he felt her presence behind him. He heard the coarse rustle of fabric as she knelt beside him and stayed silent, motionless. He saw over his shoulder the breeze swaying through her hair, making him remember the gold sparkles that sometimes shone through it. He could see her breathing and the way her abdomen rose and fell slowly, her porcelain hands resting on her thighs, like the fragile hands of the ancient dolls he'd often read about in his many books. Armin let out a slight sound of disapproval as he flexed his own fingers and felt his callused hands.

Clearing his throat slightly, he looked out the corner of his eye as Annie unfolded her hands from their position, a leaf falling to rest on the back of her right hand. With a smile of astonishment, he decided he liked the contrast between the dark green and Annie's pale skin. He watched as she brushed it off and grabbed a small piece of bread from one of the pockets in her jacket.

She reached out and offered half of it He took it with a bow, brushing his fingers against hers in a childish gesture, knowing it wouldn't bother her. He waited for her to take a bite out of her own piece, and Armin set his sight on the corner of her mouth, where a few scrums had scattered and imagined what reaction he'd get out of her if he were to reach out and brush them off. "She'd probably frown," he thought, fighting a smile.

He picked up the loaf and raised it to his lips, taking a small bite as he heard a low murmur from Annie, commenting with a breathless whisper on the many leaves spread all around them. He smiled as he realized her words often sounded like small poems, learned for every occasion. After a few minutes of silence, he heard her ask with a hint of reproach what he was thinking.

Armin turned and caught a glimpse of Annie's eyes and how the moonlight glittered on them. He saw her lips turning into a thin line of annoyance as he remained silence, and saw his own smile reflected in her iris gaze and, taking another small bite again before lowering the loaf of bread thoughtfully, he replied with a childish laugh:

"I think there are other things here that are much more beautiful to observe than the trees."