...He looked very amazing.
In fact, she got a little breathless looking at him and completely forgot that she was holding a lit match until it burned her fingers. “Ouch!” She waved it out and dropped the burned remains of the match onto the white table cloth. “Darn it!” She put her singed finger in her mouth briefly before waving it in the air, as if either would do much to dull the pain. Then, ignoring the soft chuckle coming from the doorway, she lit another match and attempted to actually light a candle with it. The wick of the new candle was sealed flat to the top of the candle however, and by the time she pried it up with her fingernail, the flame had moved most of the way down the match stick, which was now a curl of charcoal like the previous one. She was able to blow it out before her fingers got singed again, but Mark, who had been watching in silent amusement said, “Can I help?”
He took the matchbox she held out to him and soon had the candles lit. “What’s the point of lighting candles if you leave the lights on?”
Before she knew what he intended, Mark flipped the light switch, plunging the room into total darkness except for the light shining through the door to the kitchen and the fragile glow of light around the table. Suddenly, the room seemed separated from the rest of the world, and the isolation of the tiny circle of light was surprisingly intimate.
...The light snapped on again,abruptly, blinding them both.
“I hate to break things up in here,” Shawn said coming into the room, “but I thought I’d better, since the whole family is about to come in for dinner."