A love letter to Zoey
Then, playfully, she began to unbutton his shirt as he buttoned it up.
Barlen watched her silently, continuing his task.
Zoey met his gaze with a mischievous look, her hands never pausing in their actions.
Minutes later, Barlen's shirt remained unbuttoned.
He looked at her, resigned: “Had enough fun?”
“Nope.”
Giving up on the buttons, Barlen clasped Zoey's waist and drew her in, “Then you do the buttons.”
“I’m nearsighted, the buttonholes are too small, I can’t see them.”
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