“I knew a lady very like your sister – the same impulsive sweetness of temper – who was forced into, as you put it, a better acquaintance with the world. The result was only ruination and despair.”

~Col Brandon, movie version…

“You keep this up, and I will kill your family, slowly…while you watch.” David’s threats rang true, and he had the power and resources to deliver on these threats.

“Kill me, that’s fine, but don’t you dare threaten my family…” his name was James, but he was better known by the code name ‘Raven’. His wrists were raw and beginning to bleed from the ropes tied perhaps a bit too tightly, which was probably the point, and his face and body were beaten. Shirt ripped and tattered, his body bore the same marks as his face, the bruising visible in dark blue blobs, and it was possible there was a broken rib or two.

“Raven. Raven, Raven, Raven… Do you even realize what you’ve already cost me? Your little movement has created quite the stir, and my counterparts and I are hardly gleeful about your quaint attempt at a coup. So here’s how it’s going to be: you disband your group, stop the movement, and I’ll allow you to luxuriate in a dark cell for the remainder of your pathetic life. Should you refuse, I will personally kill your family in ways so intimate you will be unable remove the images from your mind for the rest of your life, which will be a very long time, which I will see to personally.

“Your suffering will be my joy. But make no mistake, either way, I win. You may not know how this little game is played, but it goes like this. You shut the fuck up and get out of my way, and I continue to run this ridiculous country however I damn well please. So long as people are afraid my power will remain in check. Your uprising is over, your voice quelled.”

James sat quietly, no emotion on his face, eyes boring through David’s. “You don’t get it, do you? What life is there for my family if I give up, anyway? Living isn’t about converting oxygen to carbon dioxide, or serving your ridiculous notions. This is bigger than me…” and James looked down, contemplatively, as he thought about his next words and their ramifications, “…or my family.”

“You just signed the death warrant for everyone you ever loved.”

At this, James began to laugh. “You still don’t get it. My loved ones are safe, but you…” he trailed off, a grin forming at the corners of his mouth, “you have now lost everything. Your family is dying, they’ll be dead within the hour, for out of the mouth of my enemy comes their punishment.”

And as he ended his sentence, the bruising on his body and face disappeared, the ropes and chains holding him in the chair vanished, and then, without touching David, lifted him up with a power never before seen, as David yelled, “What witchcraft is this?”

James just remained silent as he searched David’s mind. As soon as he got the information he needed, he placed images within David’s mind, of his family dying before his eyes. David would remember these things as memories, but the truth is that James would never kill innocents. Instead, the family was being moved at that moment to a safe house.

It was done, James now had knowledge of every assassin at David’s disposal, and some of them were incredibly dangerous. Possibly with more power than he had. With this final thought he launched David through the air with but a thought and a flick of the wrist, and he turned around to walk out as David crashed into the wall and crumpled unconsciously into a heap behind him.

Next step: eliminate the assassins.

A recurring question that I keep seeing is, “How do I write a fight scene?” This is easy and difficult, simple and complex, depending on what needs to be conveyed.

Allow me to explain.

Is the fight scene a pivotal moment? Or is it something that sprung up, a surprise of sorts? How long does the fight last? Is the fight between two masters, or between a novice and experienced fighter? What kind of weapons do they use? Is this a battle scene, or is it a duel? What is the energy level of the fighters?

If you’re attempting a David vs Goliath type battle, with the underdog pulling out the win, that’s cool, and makes for a great story, but needs to be done right. Make it believable. A seasoned warrior could become overconfident when it’s a size/build issue. Underestimation in a fight is a powerful weapon in its own right. Overconfidence can often be someone’s undoing. So can rage.

These questions and many more, need to be hashed out prior to figuring out how the scene is going to go forward. Here are some things to keep in mind when trying to flesh out a fight scene:

• Only in rare and extreme cases does a fight last longer than a minute. Keep in mind this is in more of a duel setting, one pitted against another.
• A war may last for many years, but a battle can be determined in minutes.
• Have both parties been eating well? Are they both at peak performance? A tired warrior is prone to rash decisions in the heat of battle due to wanting to get it over with quickly, and can make a costly choice. However, the endurance of a battle-trained/hardened warrior is far beyond the endurance of a traveling mercenary.
• A battle hardened warrior doesn’t need to size up his opponent… He did that the moment he saw his opponent. Hence, there will be very little walking around each other, staring into each other’s eyes ominously. No, they’ll just try to end the fight as quickly as possible.
• If there’s an opening, the skilled fighter will go for it.
• A purely defensive fighter will most likely lose. Seeking the right opportunity usually means you miss it. Instead, an advanced warrior will make the opportunity present itself, predicting his opponents’ moves beforehand and dictating the outcome of the fight. And yes, this can fail under the right circumstances. For instance, if, defensively, the opponent is using terrain to trip the assailant, this can result in an opportunity.
• Acrobatics mean nothing. Except maybe a quicker death.
• Just because one doesn’t want to fight doesn’t mean he won’t still be killed. It just means he has no chance of defending himself when he throws down his sword in an effort to make a point. Unless he’s an amazing fighter and can incapacitate his opponent, he’s dead.
• With fighters of equal skill level, the fight can go either way.
• A fighter isn’t necessarily the same thing as a killer. A warrior who’s seen the battlefield can be hardened and calloused to the horrors, but a trained fighter who’s never seen blood will be affected. A killer seeks the killing stroke with every strike, a fighter will seek to incapacitate – the victor will most likely be the killer.
• What is the purpose of the fight? Have tensions risen to the point of boiling over? Are they mortal enemies? Is it an inevitable battle between the forces of your protagonist and the opposing forces?

Magic. Or Magick. Or Magicka. Or Magecraft. You get the point.

The idea of magic throws a standard fight into an uproar. A sorcerer or wizard has the ability to cast a spell that can hurt or confuse or kill an opponent. So how does someone fight against that?

Well, this is just me speculating, and every person’s magic system should be taken into account, but here goes:

• Is there previous knowledge of the arcane within your world? If a warrior faces off against a mage of any type without knowing, he’s more than likely dead.
• What resistances are there to the arcane, if any? Might be a specific race of people (or non humanoid), or perhaps a certain trinket or flower that holds magical properties.
• Does the sword-bearer have the ability to get within striking range of the caster in a very short time?
• Stealth abilities? An ability to catch a sorcerer unaware would be incredible, and very rare (at least to me, keep in mind this is speculatory).
• How does the caster fight? Does he use illusions or tricks? What is the length and breadth of his control over his craft?
• Spell effects? What are they, and what do they look like?
• Weaknesses? Does magic drain the caster? Does it draw from their life-force? Can there be a mastery over magic that makes the caster immune to any weaknesses?

Anatomy of a Fight (one on one)

The normal fight consists of a few events.

• Reason, or cause
  1. There has to be a reason for the fight. Even if killing is just purely fun for the individual, this has to be established, and does suffice as reason.
• Meeting
  1. This might be a fateful meeting of chance, or one that was set up by one or both of the characters
  2. Some martial arts forms teach to fight before you fight (a choreograph of the fight within one’s mind). Would your characters have this kind of upbringing? Or would they just rely on their sheer strength or weaponry?
  3. Is there a dialogue? Or are there no words as they just get to hacking at each other?
• The fight itself
  1. What is going on in the fight? Sights, scents, thoughts, the feel of the weapon clashing against the opponent’s shield, for instance, and the odd thudding sound it made.
  2. Is there pure hatred? Or is there cold calculation? The power of emotions within a fight can either make or break the fight. A cold, calculated individual may have presence of mind over any actions of his aggressor, being able to remain calm in the face of rage. Keep in mind, there is no easier way to piss off an already irate individual than with a lack of emotion…
  3. What is the end goal of the fight? Is it to the death? Or is it to make a point? Are they killers? Training? Whatever the goal, make certain it’s clearly defined.
• Resulting circumstances
  1. Every fight has an outcome. Whatever happens will have circumstances that need to be dealt with. This is important. What are the repercussions of my protagonist losing? If the protagonist wins, what will happen now that he’s won?

As writers, it is our job to bring our readers into our world, help them experience what our characters experience, and build up the excitement and tension within the story to draw them further into it. A well-executed and well placed fight scene can help us do just that.

His eyes were welling up, a solitary tear finding its way out of his deep brown eyes as he contemplated the monster that now stood before him was once his brother. His hair was unkempt, and had grown long in his chase, having reached his shoulders and covering the left side of his face. He stood squared with his opponent, a dark cloak draped over the left shoulder where his sword lay in wait.

There was no speaking to this monster, no reasoning with him, all words were wasted, he knew, and so moved his hand to the hilt of the sword sitting off his forward hip in anticipation.

It was then that his brother attacked with such ferocity and power that even in expectation it took him by surprise. But he knew the attack sequence – he had already seen how this fight played out in his mind, and deftly sidestepped the incoming thrust, moving his right foot back and twisting the same shoulder in turn, quickly returning to his initial position and ducking in the next movement to avoid the downward swing aiming for his chest.

It was then he drew his sword, just after dropping, pulling his sword out of its sheath and across the stomach of his unguarded adversary. Having drawn his sword in reverse grip (Zatoichi), he pulled the sword to full arm length, using the momentum of the sword to switch grips in one motion, then stepped back on his left foot, crouching with his sword above his shoulder, point facing toward his nemesis. 

His brother may have become a monster, but he was still as predictable as ever, and with this one swipe the fight was over as he realized that a monster’s entrails spill as easily as a hero’s…

He stood up, brought his sword back to Zatoichi style, and bowed.

He had to hand it to the man that stood before him. Even with the intensity of the bleeding and his entrails becoming extrails, The Man with No Name was adamant, his eyes gleaming in hate. He watched from a safe distance as the man he once called brother dropped to his knees, his body weakening by the second.

He came around then, drew his brother’s dagger from the monster’s side, and stuck it so deeply into his neck that he bled out in seconds, whispering in the monster’s ear, “I love you, my brother.”

He left then, knowing he would be unable to overpower the others who would soon find their master dead. Somewhere deep down he realized that the war wasn’t over…it had just begun.

Her dreams were always unsettled, unless she was in Dane’s arms.  It didn’t matter how much distance was between them, or how much time had passed, all that mattered was his return to her.

Phaedra’s smile was waning, however.  The concern visible on her face as she wondered.  She tried to pass the time with well-meaning friends and the odd-sounding laughter that accompanied these moments, but in her heart she knew it was all a facade, for her real smile had largely disappeared.

It was only during those rare events where she received some type of correspondence from Dane that her smile would be seen again.  His voice, his words in a letter and how eloquent he was, or a quick email in between the activities of the day – it was what kept her alive, this is how her heart kept beating.

Indeed, time passed for her, albeit quite slowly.  Sometimes her mind would wander to a life without him, and she would break down in the very thought of losing him.  Whether to the horrors of war, or just from the distance and time they’d been separated, this was a very real fear, and she felt every bit of it.  But she couldn’t think on that right now, for she and Dane were meant to be together, and nothing could destroy that.

She was loathe to say it out loud, but she strongly believed that he was quite literally created just for her by a very loving God.

Imagining that being taken away was enough to rob her of breath.

As she looked at his last letter again, mostly for the comfort his mere words could bring her soul, she felt his love and held it close.

“My Dearest Phaedra,

I’ve come to realize something while I’ve been away from you.  I’ve learned that across these great distances I can feel you.  I feel your smiles, which have been lessening of late, and I feel when you’re afraid.  I know when something is wrong, and when your mind races to the worst possible ‘what-ifs’.

Please, do not fret for me.  And do not fret for us.  There has never been another I’ve trusted so much in my life, and I know you’ll be there with open arms upon my return.

In my studies of the world around me, I’ve wondered more and more about the intangibles.  Specifically of love.  There is something between you and me that equates to a form of ‘quantum entanglement’, the idea that two or more quantum particles once ‘entangled’ (having interaction with one another) become mirrors of each other (over simplified version, but you get the idea) even over great distances.

At the end of the day, I’ve learned the most valuable thing I can learn…that I know absolutely nothing.  And you know what?  I’m okay with this, because I have your love, because I can feel you, and because nothing can change these things.

Hopefully soon, you’ll be back where you belong – in my arms.

~With Love,  Dane”

Dane was so close to graduation. Things between he and Phaedra were going well, and soon he’d be able to head home for some much needed rest and relaxation. But no matter how much he wanted everything to be headed his way, Dane had long since learned that nothing in life was that simple – something, he knew deep down, was amiss.

“I’ll be done in a week,” he told Phaedra, excitedly.

“That’s great!” she replied, “I’m so happy for you. So, where are you off to next?”

Dane told her, “Well, I’m going to be stationed just southeast of here, but I get ten days to relax after graduation, so I was going to head home and see the family. But you know what would be even better?”

“What’s that?”

“If I just shot straight through and came to see you instead.” His smile was uncontrollable at the thought of seeing her again, as it had been far too long.

Phaedra hesitated, “…No, you can’t do that. You need to see your family, I’m sure they miss you.”

“Nah, I just saw them in July, I can stop by on my way back, though.” Dane should have caught it in her voice, in her hesitation, but he refused to.

“You know I’d love to see you, but…”

Now Dane caught it, “But?”

“Dane, look…” she trailed off, “There’s something I’ve needed to tell you, but I don’t know how.”

His heart felt like it was about to burst, his good mood and excitement to see the love of his life giving way to the worst possible scenarios as this conversation played out in his mind. But he wasn’t ready for what came.

When he remained silent, she went on, “Well, I guess I’ll just come out with it. When I was at camp, I met someone. His name is John,” his stunned silence at this revelation forced her to keep the air between them filled with something, “I moved out here to be closer to him.”

Dane’s mind was reeling, his emotions in an uproar as his face contorted in a visible show of pain from the agony his heart was feeling in this moment. Then, after a few moments and almost inaudibly, he responded, “You could move to be closer to him, but you couldn’t come to my graduation? You couldn’t find it in your heart to come see me, to give us a chance?” His tears were falling now, it felt like a waterfall.

Phaedra didn’t have the words. All she could muster was, “I do love you Dane, but…”

“Don’t waste your breath.” His heart became solid ice with those words. “You say you love me, yet you do this to me? And the worst part is that you moved out there at least 3 months ago and only now you tell me!?”

Now it was Phaedra’s turn to cry, “I didn’t want to hurt you, Dane! And I DO love you!”

“Clearly…” his sarcastic tone and coldness caused her voice to shudder.

“Dane…please.”

“I’m going to get some sleep. Bye.” He hung up then, but of course there was no sleep to be had that night. His thoughts wandered, wished, hoped, and finally, if mercifully, gave up. No matter the power of what they had between them, it wasn’t enough for her, and so, the only thing left for him was to find a way to move on. While he doubted that could happen, he would certainly try.

Of all the places he’d been to in world, nothing compared to her beauty.  He found himself thinking this but unable to see her face, staring blankly at the screen instead, absentmindedly running his fingers through her long, brown hair as his thoughts rested solely on her.

Phaedra was asleep, breathing deeply, restfully upon his chest.  He smiled as he thought about her last statement before nodding off, something to the effect of, “You’re so comfortable, I could fall asleep right here to the rhythm of your rising and falling chest.”

Dane’s back was twisted, his left leg was asleep from the awkward angle he maintained so as to not wake her, and he completely content in this, allowing himself a laugh because of it.

Her skin was so soft.  As tired as he was, he didn’t want to go to sleep.  Somewhere, deep down, he was afraid she was only a dream, and he didn’t want to lose her.  Falling asleep meant that at some point he’d have to wake, and he feared it.  Admittedly, although he really didn’t want to fall asleep, he understood that if he were dreaming, his ass would probably be a lot less tingly right now.

Dane shifted just slightly so as to get the blood flow going again.  And as soon as the pins and needles subsided, he twisted his body just enough to be able to get his hands under her, and he bent just enough for her head to rest on his shoulder.  Gently, and with ease, he carried her to his bed and laid her down, tucking her in carefully so as to not wake her.

He went to the other side of the bed and lay on top of the covers, staring at her until finally at long last, he drifted off.

Soon, he felt lips on his.  And in his dream it was Phaedra.  When he moaned involuntarily, she giggled at him and he opened his eyes to see that it wasn’t a dream after all.

“I couldn’t feel your heartbeat anymore, my love,” she told him.  He could see her smile by the soft light coming in through the window.

“I’m sorry.  I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, I’d say you did a great job, but you forgot the most important part.”

“Which is?” he implored.

“You, silly.”  She moved the covers back so he could slip in next to her.  And very soon, she found her place on his chest again, and he smiled that smile only he could, and she could feel it.  “What are you smiling at?” she asked him, knowingly.

“I’m smiling at you, at us – the wonder of it all.”  It really was hard to explain, but she understood.

“Want to hear something cool?”

“Of course,” he said.

Phaedra smiled, “Our heartbeats are beating as one.  They’re in perfect unison.”

Dane pulled her in close, held her tightly.  He lifted her head by her chin and stared into her deep, brown eyes as he traced her face – and he kissed her.  When he pulled away he could see a faint smile, it appeared as though she was in another world, and he whispered, “I love you, Phaedra.”

“I love you, Dane.”  With that, she settled back on his chest, her arm on his shoulder, her legs wrapped around his, finding herself as close as she could possibly be to him, and they fell asleep.

If ever there had been a Romeo and Juliet in real life, Phaedra had not known it until she witnessed it firsthand in hers.

She was loved.  And as great a feeling as that was, she’d never known it before, and she was scared of it, frightened of what that meant for her heart.

So she did what anyone would do.  She ran.  She hid herself away from Dane for months, refusing to take his calls for fear of the perceived power his voice held over her.  The real power, she soon understood, was beyond either of them.  But I’m so young.  I’m not supposed to feel this way.  Her thoughts drove her further and further from him until she finally realized that her hurt and pain was far beyond her fears.

And so, she decided to pay him a visit.  But the warm welcome she was hoping for, the joy in his eyes she longed to see never came to pass, as Dane couldn’t even look at her, so thoroughly had she crushed his soul.

She knew she didn’t deserve his love now.  Especially now.  And, after a short time, she broke down – her knees buckling under the weight of her collapsing heart.  Without his touch, there was no amount of consolation that could make her think otherwise, for she had just lost everything.  The sheer power of her emotions, however, made her soon realize that this was far from over, because not even the greatest of love stories told of such power…of such a connection.

And they were connected, weren’t they?  Her and Dane?  But what did that mean?

She knew she had messed up.  She knew she hurt him.  But why did he have to be so cruel?  Didn’t he realize how much it hurt her as well?

She loved him with all her heart.  And it was all beyond her control for she had no choice, as he was chosen for her.  Finally, with one last look, she left him there to his own devices, and sullenly left, soft-footed and heavy-hearted, as though a ghost.

It wasn’t but a few hours’ time that had passed before she got a call.  As she looked down she saw it was Dane and her heart skipped.  It rang, What if he just starts yelling at me?  What if he’s still pissed off and refuses to hear me out?  She answered it right before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hi Phaedra.”  His voice was soft, gentle, and reassuring.  There was a slight hint of annoyance or frustration, but he was trying to remind her how much he cared for her.

“I’m so sorry…” and the tears began to flow.  She must have looked and sounded like an idiot to everyone around her, but in this moment, somehow, she forgot to care.

“Don’t be, I should have understood, I was just so frustrated and angry.  Can you ever forgive me?”  He was starting to choke up, she could hear it, and it broke her heart even more, but it also gave her hope, and she found a smile.

“There is nothing to forgive.  I was so confused, so lost…” she hesitated a moment, “I was trying to figure out who I was, what happened.  None of this makes any sense to me.”

“What do you mean?”  Dane’s voice was so kind in this moment, and she held onto the sound of his voice – so strong, so passionate and loving.

Phaedra continued, “I…When you told me how you felt I realized I felt the same way…and it scared me.”

“I understand.  I fought with myself for months, and I don’t know if I took a single breath when I decided to tell you…in many ways I feel like this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe since that day.”

“Why?” her voice was filled with sorrow at the sound of this confession.

“Because I can’t breathe without you.”

“I know what you mean.  I need you, Dane.  I can’t figure it out or explain it, but since the moment I saw you I knew…you’re meant to be important to me.”

She couldn’t explain it.  But somehow, she knew he was smiling through his tears, she could feel him.  In that moment, in some inexplicable way, she felt everything he had felt, and she was overwhelmed with passion.  She could feel him within her now, and she was safe within his heart as well…

“Remember the letters we sent each other over the summer?” he asked.

Her tears began to well up again, “Of course,” she replied, and in that moment she knew all would be well.

Dane had given up everything to be with her, because to him, she was everything.  And yet, she remained an enigmatic mystery to him, a gypsy of sorts, an eternal wanderer who didn’t know that everything she had ever desired she already had.

“Always and forever,” he always ended their conversations with this, letting Phaedra know that nothing could shake his love for her.

“But how can you possibly love me?”  When she first said this, Dane let it slide, but by this point it had become an issue, for it seemed Phaedra truly wondered how he loved her.  In her mind, she was unworthy of love, and even more unworthy of Dane’s love.

“My love, please don’t.  When it all began, it may not have been by choice, but I am yours,” he continued, “My heart belongs to you.”

“But…” her voice trailed before softly finishing, “I don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.”

“What you mean is: you don’t deserve someone as horrible as I…” he tried laughing it off as only he could, but he was plenty annoyed at this point.

“No, you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.  And you’re foolish to think such things.  I can’t tell you enough just how amazing you really are.”

Phaedra had only heard one thing though, “Are you calling me a fool?”

What is it with women and their ability to hear and twist that one off-color word and hear nothing else? He was peeved.

“You know I didn’t.”  He said this a little more harshly than he meant to, but he was done with this conversation.  And she certainly heard it.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, “I just don’t see…”

Dane cut her off, “Just know that I love you.  I’m a bit annoyed but I’m going to get some sleep.  Bye.”

He didn’t even say, ‘always and forever,’ like he usually did.  And as he rolled over and faced the wall, closing up his phone in the process he received a text, it was from Phaedra.

“Please forgive me,” was all it said.

Before drifting off he shot back a quick text in return, “Forgiven, my love.  Talk soon.”

He haunted her dreams still.  It had been years now, and Phaedra had tried to move on, desperate to let go of the one thing she had been unable to keep.  In her feeble attempts to go forward with her life she had broken more than a few hearts.  She didn’t mean to, each guy was as good a man as she could ask for – but none of them were Dane.

She had heard through the grapevine that Dane was happy, settled down and engaged.  Phaedra couldn’t help but think how lucky that woman was, hoping and wishing that whoever this woman was, that she knew what she had in him.  But Phaedra had her doubts, to be sure – after all, there was no one who could love him like she could.

As her mind wandered, she found herself in her favorite coffee shop.  A book was open and she was staring at it, but all she could think of as she stared blankly at the pages was that time Dane gave her his journal.  He gave it to her in trust, with permission to read anything she wanted.  A tear found its way out as she sniffled at the thought of the poetry he wrote to her, or what he had written about their fateful meeting.  Throughout her life, she had never felt so alone as she did in this moment.

Her coffee getting cold, oblivious to the rest of the world around her, she closed her book and stuffed it into her purse.  As she stepped outside, breathless from her soul being ripped out, she began to cry.  And her dress, that lovely yellow dress that always brightened her day, contrasted terribly with the storm building within her deep brown eyes.

Her knees were buckling beneath her, weakened by the pain in her heart, so she walked home, the tears flowing as she made her way up the stairs and just as she was nearing the top of the stairs she stumbled, crashing her shin into the corner and wincing as she cried out in frustrated anger and heartbreak.  She got back up, made it to her door and fumbled with the lock for a bit until she got in.

She had to feel him again, and she rushed to her secret box where she had stored all his letters, and though the blurred vision from the constant tears made for a rough read, his words found their way and made her smile again.

“I love you, my Angel of Light.  I am yours, and you are mine, always and forever.”

Dane, after what seemed like far too long, arrived safely. As he finished everything he needed to and got settled into his new environment he laid down on the stiff bed and called Phaedra. It had been too long since he’d last seen her, but at least he could hear her voice.

“Hello?”

Dane couldn’t help it, his smile lit up his face like only her voice could do. “Heya gorgeous,” he said, as he stared at the wall in the dimly lit room.

“Safe and sound?” Phaedra asked. Dane could feel her smile.

“All’s well. I’m exhausted though. Couldn’t exactly get much sleep on the way over here.”

“It’s okay, you just rest and let your eyes settle in,” as if he could help himself. Her voice was so calming, comforting to his soul, that as she said these words he drifted off, his phone still on his ear.

Morning came too soon.

As Dane shifted in the morning and groaned a bit, he realized that the phone was still on his ear, and while still in a bit of a haze he heard, “Good morning!”

“Have you been awake all night?” he asked, somewhat confused and still out of it.

“I suppose I have,” she replied, “I was just listening to you breathe. You breathe so slowly, rhythmically, I just couldn’t help myself.” Dane could feel her smile, just as he could feel everything about her, and as his face brightened he was unsure if he’d ever felt such butterflies before.