Levi hated dirt. And that's precisely why it was almost ironic that he was standing knee-deep in a small spring garden you were "desperately trying to save." "This isn't an efficient use of time" he muttered, weeding with astonishing precision.

"You wanted some fresh air" you reminded him. He gave you a dry look. "This is pollen." You laughed a genuine, bright laugh that lingered among the newly blooming flowers.

A gust of wind swept through the yard, sending petals dancing. One landed on his shoulder. You reached out and brushed it away. "You don't really belong this time of year" you said.