She is pretty, almost doll-like in a pink flowery dress if not for the bare shoulders and the hint of cleavage.
Hand flutters over the neckline and sharp eyes narrow guardedly, as if she knows exactly where he is looking.
She raises an eyebrow. “Could you be Uncle Carlson’s nephew?”
“Gabriel,” he replies. “You’re Auntie Sophia’s niece then.”
“I guess you’ve become… taller.” she remarks, with an air of deliberate disinterest.
“I think you haven’t changed at all.”
“Just what do you mean by that?”
“I mean your hair, Curlylocks.” He reaches with his right hand to tug at a lock of perfectly wavy hair falling almost to her waist, but she steps away.
“Where are Auntie and the others?”
He waves his hand in the direction of the living room. “This way, Miss.”
Without waiting for him, she walks to the door and pushes it open herself.
He smirks.
His cousin-in-law is all grown up.
«But still the inimitable firecracker I vaguely remember from many New Years ago.»