The corner of Moira’s mouth twitched. She found the strength in her jaw to finish chewing her sandwich.

"Do you believe me to be a criminal?" Shaye inquired huskily.

"You are asking for a verdict, and I know nothing of your case," Moira said pointedly. She caught a couple walking down the winding path alongside them. Shaye did not seem phased by the outsiders. When she turned back to him, her eyes landed on his ears.

"Nothing? It is apparent you notice a particular part of me no others have. Would you care to share your findings?"

"I haven’t noticed anything significantly different in you versus any other man." Moira lowered her sandwich on the wrapper and brushed her hands together. She wiped them with a napkin to remove any oil. Shaye chuckled quietly.

"Why is it, then, you continue to find a great interest in my ears?"

"I’m admiring your hair."

"Ahh, my hair," Shaye drolled. He leaned back slightly, allowing only a few extra inches to grow between them. "Would you like to touch my?.hair?"

"No," Moira said quickly. She cared for nothing more, at that moment, than to touch this man, hair, face, ears. Anything... She knew his type, and knew that any dabbling would lead to grave disappointment and loneliness. Still, she didn’t care to heed her own warnings.

"Are you sure?"

Moira hesitated. Her fingers ached to touch him. Never had her body responded so pointedly towards a man. Never had she lost control over her own thoughts and feelings. Every single muscle in her body roiled and weakened. Especially, the most reserved part of her. Shaye seemed to sense this. He slowly took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. Charges of electricity sparked through her, sending a heat ripple from fingertip to fingertip, head to toe. His lips felt firm, but soft. Feverish. They lingered on her skin as he observed her reaction. He rolled her hand over in his and lifted her palm to his ear. His motions were tantalizingly slow. Seductive.

"Please. Tell me if it is how you see."

Moira lifted her hand from the secure cradle of his own. She brought her fingers to his hair, just above the tip of his ear. Her fingertips brushed over the silky strands of thick hair a few times before she lowered them to his ear. As she traced the mystical shape, a smile crept over his mouth... Moira felt her own intrigue express itself over her face. The corners of her mouth lifted and she felt her eyes glitter.

"They’re real," Moira heard herself whisper.