There were many, many stairs, and as they climbed, they passed stained glass windows that cast colored lights onto their faces. Poppy grinned and looked back at him, her face glowing with a warm orange. "A bit of a work out, isn't it?"
"Oh, how nice for you," she said wryly as they got to the top of the stairs. The clock face was huge in front of them. Large gears creaked above their head, and heavy, metal bells waited patiently for the hour mark. The stained glass was way more intricate up here, and it cast beautiful, colored lights against the wooden floor. Poppy walked over to the window and looked out. "Wow. Francis, you can see the whole town here."
"Mmhmm," she murmured, stepping closer to him and slipping one arm to rest on his back as they looked out the window together. The city was vast and sprawling. Tiny cars drove on the streets, and buildings reached into the sky, bathing in the sun. Poppy tilted her head to rest it on Francis' shoulder. "Do any places here stand out to you?"
"Poetic, Craw," she said, giving him a slight smile before kissing underneath his jaw. "There's a metaphor there. I'm sure of it."
She beamed and rubbed his back reassuringly. "I know, my darling. I'm just teasing. Maybe you just have the natural tendency to be poetic?"
She leaned into his embrace, as natural as if it were breathing. "You're a poet and you didn't even know it!"
"Don't undermine yourself, my darling," she said, her fingers rubbing out tense spots on his back. "I believe that you could be the next Shakespeare."
He watched her for a moment, a thoughtful glint in his eye. He leaned slightly to kiss her, his hand resting on her back.
She kissed him back instantly, her hands slipping up his chest to cup the sides of his neck. She smiled against his mouth, her lips curving up slightly.
"Oh, Craw," she murmured, burying her head in his neck, her fingers brushing through his hair. "I feel the same."
