"You should hate me," he thought mordantly as he held her close. But she only sighed and snuggled closer, oblivious to his self-castigation.
Anest awoke to the sound of wind in the trees, and the cool embrace of a soft form. She stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes to a new day. To him. For his part, he could only marvel at the feelings that she had awakened in him.
"And," he wondered, "what could she be feeling?"
Her mien was so full of innocent wonder that he nearly hung his head with shame. But he met her gaze, determined to be worthy of her trust.
Or was it simply to be worthy?
Yet when she instinctively moved against him in a gesture that was as old as time itself, he was able to respond to her need which was indistinguishable from his own. Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, until Anest began to hear the others stirring downstairs.
Rising reluctantly, he self-consciously got dressed in front of her and began looking for something to clothe her with. He found a long, soft muslin shirt that came to her knees, with long sleeves which he rolled up.
"This will do for now," he said. She frowned so when he put it on her that he couldn't help but smile, broadly.