They would've driven each other completely mad if their relationship had been allowed to continue. At first, it was fun to sneak around. She would cherish the weeks they spent in France for as long as she lived. When they thought no one was aware of what they were doing, they'd sneak down to his house on the coast of Cornwall. They'd spend the days exploring the countryside, picking bouquets of the bluebells that came to symbolize their limited time together, and the nights tangled in the sheets calling out for more, more, more of the other. As much as she loved him, even to that very day, she knew that daily interactions would ruin the novelty of their relationship. He tended to leave his socks laying about the house and it was always possible to tell when he'd made himself something to eat in the kitchen based on the crumbs and rubbish he left behind. She was sure that would frustrate her and he wouldn't appreciate her annoying habits as well.