Outside you sat cross legged by a crackling fire. In your hand you held a long stick which on the end held about three marshmallows. You were just mindlessly enjoyin the cool afternoon in the park, away from the hussle and bussle of the city.
You closed your eyes as you waited for the mellows to heat up. You didn't want them burnt but you didn't want them not warm - if you get me.
You were too busy in thought over mindless things to notice the steadily crackling branches behind you - a twig snapping, the crunching of dead leaves.
So it came as big surprise to you when you felt a pair of hands along your shoulders. Jumping, you dropped your stick, the marshmallows falling onto the burning logs.
"What?" A familiar face popped from your left side. A dumb smile placed on Murr's face.
"My marshmallows are ruined!"
"Ah, they're fine without having to cook 'em" He teased, giving you a kiss to your lips and walking to the camper.
You grumbled, picking up your stick.