"Do you love him?"

The question seemed so simple. A yes or no answer. But questions can be deceiving, depending on who is asking. In this case, the question was hidden among other things in a conversation between family. The one asking was a man with untrimmed black hair slipping out of his hood. He was asking the daughter of his cousin. She was young, little more than a decade younger than he, and her hair was light brown. This, however, was not her usual color. It was late, around 2:00 A.M., and the two were sitting, hidden in the shadows that swept over his boyhood home at night.

"Well? Do you?" he asked again after a long silence. Her dark eyes flickered from him to the entrance and back again, cautiously scanning for somehow who could overhear and make a mess of things.

"Yes," she said finally. The emotion that filled her eyes and spilled over was enough to make many weak in the knees. He was taken by surprise just a bit, having not been expecting such a stalwart response.

"How much?" Another simple question; just the magnification of her affection towards a particular person. She disliked answering such awkward questions, but she mentally shook herself, reminding herself that she had asked for the conversation. After all, she had needed someone to talk to who knew the man for whom she felt so strongly.

After a moment of thought, she whispered, "With all of my heart." Tears threatened to fill her eyes, but she would not let that happen. She was too tough, too hardened by misfortune, fear, and rough times, to let that happen.

"Leave it to me." He rose from his seat, stood over her for a moment, and then went to his bedchamber. That was it. No further words were spoken. She almost feared what he was plotting; his plans were not exactly "harmless," as he claimed. However, deep down somewhere in the pit of her existence, she knew whatever he was thinking would work out. It would be dreadfully awkward, she felt, if he walked up to the man she loved, a man that was his best friend since childhood, confessed her affection, and demand he return it. She hoped he was careful how he executed whatever plan he was forming.

And she did, indeed, love the man of whom they had been speaking. His mystical eyes, disarming smile, and contradicting scars set her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's. She loved everything about him from his plain brown shoes to the hair on his head, which was a sandy brown with just enough gray to give it character. All she could do was think about him. It was involuntary, but pleasing. It comforted her to think, or at least pretend, that these feelings were mutual. She knew it wasn't true, that she was lying to herself, but it helped her get through the day. Love is tricky that way.

A/N: Ok so this came out of NO WHERE it just suddenly popped into my mind. This is just the intro, the real story starts whenever I can come up with a good idea and post it!

By the way, see that green and white button below? Click it and type some pretty words J