Escapade cont.Mature

“Oh?  Then where should one of my stature be resting?” I try to inject snark into this comment, but my vocabulary has me coming off as jesting.  To be fair, it’s been a while since I jested.

“Not here,” he says, his face sliding back into placidity.  He is far away in the depths of his mind, and I don’t push it.  Unconsciously he grabs my hand, looking for warmth and comfort.  I try not to move.  I can feel his blood pulsing through his fingers, especially his thumb, and it’s rough skin but a slow beat.  Mine seems faster in comparison, more of a tempo.  I’m just nervous to be around someone like him.  He’s lethal.  But not now, not here.  I try to capture this moment in words.  All I can describe it as is two people who have no power over each other, partially woven together in this moment.  

I notice the sun setting in the background, past the trees and dirt road.  There are no houses in front of us, but a couple neighbors farther down where the asphalt covers the mulch.  It’s far away in comparison and I hope for the day when it’s not.

His hands are shaking slightly and I nudge him.

“Hmm?” he ponders.  “How long was I out?”

“Enough for me to be worried.”

“Oh.”  His face starts a blush that blends in due to the color of the sunset.  His skin looks more tan now, kind of like a the guy you would want to see on the street.

I hesitate to ask but I might as well.  “Who was she?”

“What?” he says.  He is befuddled.

“Who was she, the girl you were thinking about just now?”


The End

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