"And that is the last one, my love," Dera finally said, closing the book with a gentle thud that echoed softly in the quiet garden.
She turned slightly on the bench to look at Dexter, a fond smile pulling at the corners of her lips. They had been there for quite a while, sitting beneath the soft golden hue of the descending sun, surrounded by the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds returning to their nests. A few fallen petals from the overhead flowers danced lazily in the air, adding a dreamlike quality to the moment.
Dexter let out a dramatic puff of air and leaned back slightly as though he had just climbed a mountain. "Phew," he breathed, eyes slightly drooping from the mental exertion.
That reaction got Dera laughing, a soft, warm, laughter full of affection. She looked at him with amusement and love swirling in her eyes.
"Tired?" she asked, already knowing the answer but still enjoying his little display.
