Here's a riddle for you

Harper

The journey to the given destination provides an unexpected traipse through the countryside that romances and enchants, drawing Harper's eye hither and tither to soak in the beauty of the season. The autumn sunlight warms his shoulders through the thin t-shirt he wears, dry leaves crunching more plentifully underfoot as he treads further and further away from the inner quarter. He had already memorized the directions ahead of time, so there's little doubt in his navigation, leaving him with only the peacefulness of the afternoon and his own thoughts to occupy him.

Normally, that's a daunting prospect, but the journey is not so long as to allow those darker edges to converge and swallow him whole. Instead there is the brightness of Maea's hair beneath the sunlight to chase it away, reclining against the front door of a dilapidated house in what appeared to be a half-doze.

Harper's steps are always unnaturally silent after years of having it trained into him, so he intentionally scuffs his toes along the cobblestone and crunches over leaves so she might hear him coming well before he's upon her. Hands in his pockets, he smiles warmly at her, though something tired lingers in the corners of his eyes. "I didn't mean to be late enough to have you napping already," he teases lightly, standing at the base of the stairs of the stoop.

I cut my teeth on second-hand sentiments
you can't trust a thing I say