Barty is like a grumpy cloud, always freezes everyone out and walks around with a face like he's chewing a lemon. He has that sour look on his face⎯never seems happy about anything.

And there is she. She's like pure sunshine, no less. She gently takes his hand with her soft touch, intertwining her dainty fingers with his. He can't help it⎯she doesn't give him a chance; he just ends up smiling at her.

It's impossible to deal with her, so he ends up falling under the spell of this cute witch. He realizes she's not doing it on purpose to grab attention. I mean, c'mon⎯if he thinks that, he's the biggest idiot on the planet. Seriously.

Her lips are covered with that coconut gloss, crushing them in a kiss feels like stepping halfway into heaven, absolutely sweet. Oh, and her tender foot, always stomps the floor in a right moody gesture when she doesn't get what she wants.

The pants stretch, it's boiling hot and tight⎯uh, he definitely needs help.

Barty calls her a bimbo girl, because that's probably what she is. After all, everything around his girlfriend is draped in this pink color and it's impossible to escape from it. But he never whinges and complains.

He shakes his head, snapping out of the stream of endless thoughts. Only now he blurts out a sloppy, “Yeah, nice skirt.”

Ow no, he sees his mistake. She's dead touchy and sensitive to something like this. Her face just drops, her cheeks slowly pout, she crosses her arms over her chest and turns her back to him. With a sudden move, her hair tips brush Barty's chest and chin as he reaches for her, grabbing her narrow waist. “I mean that this skirt suits you very well.”

His hand slides along her thigh, rumpling up her new skirt, hot lips press against the back of her neck. Another warm palm playfully touches the edge of her top, and he buries himself in her shoulder, breathing in the smell of some sweet bubblegum. “Fancy a stroll, Princess?”

She's tasty. He definitely wolfs her down.