And finally, summer had arrived, much to your mild disgruntlement as you were more of a winter fan. However, Arlo was a huge lover of summer - the freedom, the time, the warmth, the air, the sun (he could afford to love the sun considering he never got sunburnt). He thrived in the summer.

During summer, Arlo had been staying over at your house, in the countryside, where you had been roaming the woods and messing about in the stream that ran alongside your house, taking the dog for a walk and finding your own special isolated places away from roads and noise, the only sound being birdsong and your laughter.

And over the summer, you had drawn closer. Perhaps, some may argue, too close. But you were both happy with this arrangement as you woke up to see him beside you, shirtless and slim, laying on his stomach fast asleep, his masses of brunette curls boyish and messy about his head and neck from sleep, his face buried in the pillow, arms folded underneath. The duvet was tousled about both of your bodies as the sun from this Sunday morning seeped through the curtains, painting Arlo's features in a warm glow that was nothing short of angelic, so you allowed yourself to just admire the sight.