Within A Sea of Gold, On An Island Of Dying Grassmature

    The air was warm, and the sun hung deep in the western sky, but had not yet felt the black embrace of the horizon. I stood, motionless, looking upon the beaming, golden ocean before me. The wind rippled the wheat like ocean waves. I shifted my weight, trying to dig my feet into the gravel so as to gain proper footing. Folding my arms against my chest and letting the warm breeze contort around me and blow across my face, I squinted my eyes, picking at the shadowed silhouette of the island. Near the center of the field was a fallow, grass-blanketed hill, upon which one lonely, gnarled tree extended. Autumn had colored its leaves warm, and beneath its fiery canopy stood waving, familiar figure. My lips peeled back into a smile, one which I could not control. I waved in reply, beginning at a scant jog, to navigate through the field.

    I remember it so vividly, even to this day, the look on his face as I ascended the very mild slope of the hill, and padded the stray wheat fibers from the surface of my jeans. The evening light reflected brilliantly from the edges of his sepia brown eyes, which stared intently with such love and humor at me. I could not help but wrap my large arms around his petite figure, which he responded to by connect his behind my back. He turned his head and rested his ear upon my chest, giving me the perfect opportunity to smell his curly brown hair, and to pick up the scent of fruit and his boyish must.

    I could see the edge of his white teeth, and felt the wracking of light laughter. He pulled away slowly, and I could see the remorse in his eyes. He spoke, "Hey".

    I replied with a crooked smile and a hearty laugh. He always did have a way with words. I pulled him back into my embrace, but this time we kept our eyes affixed, his warm, mine cold and gray, like copper-corrosion on steel. The smiles fell from our faces at the same instant, our eyes closed, and our lips connected, Ari standing on his tip-toes to reach. He kissed me and I happily returned the favor, moving my lips with his. His hands found their way into my lengthy dark hair, and I felt a slight moan at the back of my throat. My eyes flickered open for a mere instant, to see if he'd heard me. Instead, I saw that his brown eyes were staring back at me, full of love and excitement. My arms tightened around him. I slowly walked him back against the tree, gently lifting him to my height and wedging him between the tree in myself. He giggled with our mouths still locked. It tickled.

    That was the first time we had ever kissed, it was so perfect, and from that moment on, I knew I loved him. I should not have, but I did. I do. We were young then, he was 13, I believe, and I was a bit older. One of the best stories I remember, though, happened when I was 17 It was up on The Mountain, and the stars were so bright that night...