“Bràmair,” he whispered, his head in the crook of your neck as he hunched down a little to reach you, his hands around your waist as you danced to the music that was sung and strummed in a beautiful Gaelic song.

Ever since the Scott laid eyes on you he swore it was fate— his fate. Never had he seen someone like you. There was no one even similar in the way you had acted and looked. Now that was what attracted him to you.

You were just.. different.

Tenderness and care was in his touch, his fingers playing with the loose fabric that covered your back as he guided you, moving with his feet leading the dance so you could follow behind.

A soft kiss was placed onto the skin between the base of your neck and shoulder, pulling back with a soft look in his face. Jamie raised his hand, cupping your cheek gingerly just to move his thumb between your lips to expose your upper canine to annoy you with a small chuckle.