“It’s like I’m at a middle school dance. He slides his hands around my waist, and I loop my arms around his so-broad-they-should-be-illegal shoulders. Oh, tennis. Damn. He shifts, and we begin to sway side to side. There’s no music, but the natural world outside is like a magical, real-life orchestra. The rustling grass sounds like the soft keys of a piano; the faraway cars thrum like the beat of a drum.”
Book:The Charmed List