"Not bad. A few years apart, and your silver tongue has gotten even sharper," Annabelle Linton said teasingly.
Aaron Wyatt let out a low chuckle, a soft, shallow laugh bubbling from his throat. He said with exaggeration, "You seem taller, too. I remember you used to need a stool just to meet my gaze. Now you can at least barely see my face."
"No, you remember it wrong. How could I see your face with just a stool? Have you forgotten? I needed a telescope just to see the expression on your face, and not just any weak one, either," Annabelle Linton retorted playfully.
Aaron Wyatt smiled, his gaze soft as he looked at her. "Have you been doing okay these past few years?"
Annabelle Linton's smile froze for a moment. Then, she self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been all right. What about you?"
"Me? Hmm, let me think."
Aaron Wyatt gently pinched her cheek, pursing his lips as if he were genuinely thinking it over.
