Cocohorse

She must be in her room. His hands sweated at his sides, and he had to wipe his reddening palms on his black dress pants several times before he felt a little better. He could feel an uncomfortable heat rise up his neck and to his ears, and when he rolled his pre-planned conversation in his head, his stomach flipped. Maybe he couldn't, shouldn't do this. He was probably rushing into this too quickly, and he might frighten her off. But it wasn't for certain. If he never asked, he would never know. A young, brown-haired man with intelligient, piercing blue eyes, Robert Crawley, clutched his hands behind his back, and with a few seconds of in