One night, he asked me to let down my hair.

“Why would I do that? I don’t want you yanking on it again,” I told him, but my smile took the sting out of my words.

“Would it hurt you if I climbed up there using your hair?”

“No, go right ahead.” I swung my hair down into the darkness of the garden below and soon he began climbing up the length of it.

The next thing I knew, he was standing right beside me. He was a lot taller than I imagined him to be. I felt suddenly shy, so I went away and sat at my table. He came and sat next to me.

“I’m sorry if my room is a mess. My mom’s always on my case about cleaning it, but I’m lazy, I guess.” I nervously began babbling about this and that, hoping he wouldn’t notice my cheeks were lobster-red.

“I bet your room’s really clean. I bet you have lots of servants that help you clean it and stuff. Is your room big? I bet it is -“

Suddenly, he placed a finger on my lips. I stopped mid-sentence.

His eyes were the deepest shade of blue. I felt myself sinking into them.