"You have carnival rides in your yard? Aren't there zoning issues?" She seemed amused and caught completely off guard. I think I giggled. Was that the sound I made? Goodness.

"No zoning problems. Not here." I told her .

She wasn't like other girls I'd been around. There was no screaming or jumping, stomping of feet or crying in delight. She did, however, seem nervous, which I understood. She was far from home, staying in a stranger's house. Not only a stranger, a famous strange who locked himself away 97% of his life. Poor child...

I did appreciate the lack of screaming, though. It was a plus.

"This is you." I opened the door to her room for her and she let go of my arm to step inside and let out a tiny gasp. She was just short of spinning around the room like a delighted little girl. Because it wasn't directed toward me for once, I smiled at her and leaned against the door jam. She turned to me, her eyes wider than they were naturally, and said in her thick southern accent:

"Michael, this is far too much."

"Oh, don't be silly." I said, smiling softly.

Narrator's POV

Christine wanted to hug him, but refrained herself. Instead, she tossed herself back onto the bed and sighed deeply. She looked around the room, decorated in soft natural colors. It was nice to see trim that wasn't white for a change, but a soft off-gold. A delicate, silver chandelier hung above the bed. The bed was dressed in a deep burgundy sheets and a very warm, comfortable duvet in a deeper red. The throw-pillows were lined in gold and thread.

Belatedly, she remembered that Michael was standing in the doorway. And he was watching her very closely. She sat up and ran a hand through her chaotic blond curls with a small, embarrassed smile. Michael smirked back at her.

"I'll just let you get settled, shall I? Oh, and I hope you're hungry. I have dinner planned for seven o'clock."

"I am hungry. Thank you."

"I'll come get you, then. So you don't get lost." She smiled and nodded.

"Lovely."