Do what you want but I know who you are/ say what you want but I know what you're thinking/ go where you want but I won't be to far/ go where you want and I'll know where you'll end up/ if you fall in love withhold nothing back/I'll fall in love withhold nothing back from you

Song: Hold Nothing Back by Copeland

I stifled a smile when I heard her feet shuffle across the uneven ground near the garage, right on time. She can be so out of it sometimes, but when she decided to do something, she can be quite task oriented. I suspect she has some type of OCD. Just yesterday, I turned away from whatever I was working on, curious to what she was doing since she was being so quiet and found her wiping and reorganizing my tools. The blush on her cheeks when she realized she got caught made me spend the next thirty minutes teasing her over it.

Maybe it was OCD, or maybe it was just because she has a one track mind, I noticed that it always took her ten minutes to walk from where she parked her truck to the garage. She'd trip of course—considering the treacherous terrain—then would spend exactly three minutes on getting rid of the evidence of mud and grass stains, musing over why it was so green here, then preceded to stomp her foot towards the remaining distance.

I continued to tune into the sound of her movements but kept working on the engine with my greased hands, chuckling when I heard her surprise gasp as she stumbled over a rock or some other thing, smiled when I heard the flapping sounds of cloth against a solid object—most likely cleaning the dirt from her hands and knees. The grumbling and the distempered sound of her footsteps drew another smile from my lips.

Clumsy, temperamental Bella.

Like clockwork, she arrived at the garage, where—I noticed again—she'll spend exactly one minute to watch me move, her face puckered into a frown as she tried to figure out what the hell I was working on.

3...2...1, I counted in my mind and waited for her to ask the question that she always asked whenever she found him working on something.

"What is that?"

I smiled before turning, like clock work.