Eden came up the road, whistling, a large white spring blossom nestled behind his ear, caught in the tresses of his curled dark hair. I was on the hill with the sheep and Anna, my maidservant. We were weaving, but the moment I saw him walk round the grassy knoll, I couldn’t stop staring. I’d been looking at him achingly since I was a child of nine.
No one matched him. His ruddy fair skin lightly tanned in summer’s heat, and rosy, like a fresh pink blossom in winter. And such hair. The sun reflected on it easily, turning the midnight brown to strands of shimmering gold and bronze. He was tall, but I never had trouble catching those eyes, shining like fields of sweet grass.

I sat up, as Eden wound his way up the rocky cut of path. To my joy, I saw that he did not turn for my home, but to me, his teeth shining as he smiled.
“Expecting me?” He whispered, pulling the blossom from behind his ear and tucking it into my hair.
I stared, but could not speak. Anna laughed behind me. Oh, the the paralysis of love…