dog walks in the park.

A gentle knocking against the window pane tore Angel's eyes from her book, meeting the same sucrose smile from yesterday.

George pointed to the door with his free hand, his other hand wrapped around a dog's leash.

Snow from strong blue-grey clouds fell lighter today, falling more like powdered sugar rather than rocks of popping candy.

Angel quickly grabbed her things, dropping them all into her bag and rushing out the bookstore door, "George!"

He wore a woollen hat this time, his brunette waves covered by blue and white patterned cotton.

"Hi Angel,"

She crouched down beside the excited auburn pup, stroking his silk fur whilst he fought against George's leash to greet Angel.

"He loves people, sorry," George apologised with a smile as the pup rocked Angel's balance, though Angel wasn't bothered by the dog's excitement.

She gave him a final stroke on his ear before standing up, they'd all freeze if they didn't start moving around soon, "What's his name?"

George was the first to choose a direction to walk in, heading towards the Central Park. It wasn't that popular of a park, since everybody preferred the main city of London.

"Dog," he replied simply, tugging the happy puppy away from the busy road whilst trying to swerve himself past passersbyers

"Hm?" Angel hummed with a confused glance, hooking her arm around George's as to not lose him in the crowd, "I know he's a dog, George,"

A strawberry hue travelled up George's neck, though he simply dismissed it as the freezing temperature.

"He hasn't got a name," George explained, pulling Angel across the road alongside him and Dog, "We just call him Dog,"

"Just Dog?"

They turned a sharp corner into the Central Park, walking down the gravel pathway throughout the field of white grass.

George released Dog's lead, letting the puppy run wild through the snow, his paws creating small paw-prints in the sleet, "Yeah,"

"So if you had a cat, you'd call them Cat?" Angel propounded with a smile, keeping her eyes on Dog, though he kept himself within a safe distance from the two brunettes.

Angel's hand subconsciously remained wrapped around George's upper arm, though George was very much aware.

He made no move to unhook their arms, instead savouring the moment. He hadn't felt this way with someone in a long time.

Despite it being early days, despite them being practically strangers, he wanted to know her better.

"I have a cat," he smiled, awaiting Angel's reaction. He had already became addicted to her smile, chasing the sugar rush she gave him in every conversation.

Angel cut George off smiling in disbelief, "No way,"

"Called Cat,"

Her laugh was just as, if not more, addicting as her smile. She had a hearty-laugh. it was warm-hearted, sincere, and full of joy, "It's one of the laziest name ever, but it's adorable,"

She had complete control over George without knowing, making his stomach melt into sweet taffy simply from her touch.

"What's your cat's name then?" George asked, recalling the grey and white kitten that greeted him at Angel's door yesterday.

In George's eyes she seemed like the type of person to own a cat, open-minded, trusting, affectionate, sociable, kind. She filled all the boxes.

George's college psychology course from a few years back paired with his book knowledge meant that he could observe people better than others.

"Her names Winnie," she answered his question before he could even part his lips to ask it, "Yes, after Winnie The Pooh,"

"It's cute, Cat's still a better name," he complimented, though he still had to defend his choice of pet names no matter how much better Angel's cat's name was.

"Your opinion sucks, George, I learnt that yesterday," Angel laughed, unhooking her arm from George's to adjust the strap of her bag that had slipped down her arm.

She didn't put her arm back.

Angel stuffed her hands into her pocket, trying to regain somewhat of the warmth in her fingers, spinning the loose thread in her pocket between her thumb and index finger.

"It doesn't! What about that book? Have you finished it yet?" George searched for a response to defend himself, "I'm better with books than with pet names and hot chocolate,"

George tossed a neon yellow tennis ball into the snow, watching Dog maniacally tackle the small object, his tail wagging with joy.

"I liked it,"

A smile tugged on George's lips, Angel's face twisting in confusion, "Now that's how I know you're lying to me,"

Not only was it impossible for Angel to have read a book of that size overnight, she was lying. She had in fact dropped the book before reaching page. 130.

"What do you mean?" Angel continued her lie, failing to make a the lie believable from the twitching smile on her face.

"The ending," George held out his hand for Dog to drop the ball into his palm, shaking off the snow and grass the fibres had collected, "You'd be cursing me for recommending another sad-ending book,"

"It was boring! I'm sorry!" she sighed in defeat, crouching down to pick up the loop of Dog's snow-covered leash.

She grazed her hand past George's as she placed the leash into his hand, closing his fingers around the leather.

"Don't apologise, it wasn't my favourite either," George admitted, "Thought that you'd see the hidden messages in the book that I missed,"

He knew she wouldn't read the book, it was far too long and didn't seem like her style, but he was curious.

"What hidden messages?"

"Metaphors, some of them foreshadowed the ending. There was a few double entendre's too," George bent down to scoop Dog into his arms, "Loads of people missed them,"

He dusted the snow off his paws, holding the dog close to his warm body in an attempt to warm the puppy up. They should head home soon.

Angel eyes crinkled at the edges and the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes gentle as she looked at George.

"What? Why are you smiling at me like that?" he questioned, wondering if he had said something stupid or that he had something on his face.

"No reason," she shook her head gently, twisting her body to cup Dog's small head, running her thumb over his floppy ears, "I've never met someone who loves books as much as you do,"

Even her touch was gentle, everything about her was. Her smile, her eyes, her voice, her hands.

"I don't love them that much," George retorted, smiling as Dog's tongue swiped at Angel's cheekbone, melting the snowflake that hand landed upon her rosy cheeks.

They were all cold, but neither of them wanted to leave.

Leave each other, that was.

George wanted to know her better, spend all the time he could possibly spend with her.

"Okay, how many books have you read?"

He had lost count of the hundreds of books he had read in his lifetime, far too many for anybody to recall.

"Have you ever been ice-skating?" George changed the subject swiftly, removing one of his hands from Dog to point towards the ice-rink in the distance.

The ice rink was set up annually in London's city, large lightbulbs hung on a string wrapped around the arena.

"See!" Angel smiled, knowing that he was just trying to avoid her question, though she still answered his, "When I was a child, but I wasn't that good,"

"The rink opens tomorrow, we could go together?" he suggested, a slight tone of uncertainty to his voice, "Unless you're busy, then that's okay,"

"I'd love to go with you," Angel disconnected her attention from the smiling puppy to meet George's eyes, "How's tomorrow at five?"

George would've been fine with any time. He'd cancel plans to spend more time with her if that's what it took.

"Tomorrow at five is perfect," George tried to cool the burning sensation travelling up his neck to his cheeks, "I can pick you up from your apartment?"

"Sounds good," she stepped backwards a few steps, crushing George's candy heart, he'd always hate goodbyes, "I'll see you tomorrow, George,"

Angel waved a brief goodbye as she started to walk back down the path her and George had just walked up.

"Great! It's a date," George called out to Angel's turned back, regretting his own statement as soon as it left his lips.

He was taking things too far, too fast.

Angel glanced over her shoulder, no sign of distress on her face, "It's a date!"

A date.

Dog ^__^