How sweet it is to be loved by you
A completely pointless fluffy Philinda-in-Ireland fic. Literally. All fluff. No angst to be found. Haha. Title is a Michael Buble song.
Dedicated to the birthday girl and one of my favorite people EVER, @b00k-freak! I LOVE YOU.
Also on AO3.
He tries to read the book.
Honestly, he tries.
The whole idea of this vacation spawned from his desire to read this book in Ireland. Granted, he wasn’t sitting in a pub at the moment–which had originally been part of the dream–but he was much happier with the way his idea had turned out instead.
Rather than a noisy pub, Phil sat in a beautiful old house with polished wood floors, a garden out back, and a view of the Irish country-side that was to die for. Currently, Phil sat on the couch in the cozy living room as it rained lightly outside, his sock-clad feet were propped up on the coffee table, and he was trying his best to keep his eyes from straying to the other side of the sofa, where the source of his distraction sat.