There was a light mist in the morning, a pleasant damp coolness running down your skin. A light rain drizzled down, making the petals of the garden roses shiver, as if from cold or anticipation. A small, cozy place, filled with the scent of flowers and some intangible care, as if someone loved this place very much.

Footsteps were heard from behind, echoing crisply on the gravel pathway.

Hello, darling. Do you like this garden?

It was a young man-hummingbird. The long sleeves and tail of the scarf resembled the body structure of this small bird. He smelled of something sweet. Wavy short peachy hair with bangs to the side and brown eyes. His lipstick-covered lips curved into a smile.

My name is Yves. Well, or you can call me your queen!

He chuckled, covering his mouth with his wing-sleeve.