Springtime was my favorite season of the year. It was the perfect mix between all of the other seasons. The warmth of summer, the cool breeze of winter. The focus on the vegetation of autumn. It all culminated in this beautiful season.
It also meant I could see her again.
No. It wasn't a secret relationship that our parents never wanted to happen. If anything, they are still waiting for us to marry. We didn't think of ourselves as ready. We weren't ready.
We were still young.
We still had time to be young, to be foolish, to be stupid in love. Affectionate. But not yet companionate.
All in later time, we both say.
But winter had split us up, as we did live a bit far apart. We did get to see each other hither and thither. But other than that, we barely had any contact.
Another reason I love spring. She loves it. And I love how she loves it. I love how it affects her, both in personality and appearance.
I can explain all of this later.
I need to get there first.
"Just two apples, my son? You sure that will be enough?" My mother asks me, worrying that we'll starve out there.
"Yes mother. We don't need a feast. Please, I just want to go." I say. Even thinking of her excites me to no end. My hands grip the basket handle, threatening to break it.
My mother smiles at my eagerness, it obviously reminds her of when she herself was young. Young, and in love with my father.
"Was father ever eager like me?" I ask, glancing up at my mother's face.
Her brown eyes become golden once the sun hits it. They glow. It never ceases to put me in awe. Her brown hair put in her braid that I know my father asks for. It's obvious that he loves it like that. But he loves her either way.
"I cannot say. I was eager. He made me feel a certain way. More than my other suitors."
"You had other suitors? Do...do you think she has suitors?"
"Are you worried she might not love you?"
"No."
"Then no, she doesn't. She is a tough girl. I think the reason she fell in love with you is that you got back up when she knocked you down. She thinks of you as a reason to be a woman sometimes. To be, as the men like to say, 'fragile'. But we both know she isn't. None of us are. We just like to feel loved. Keep that in mind, my son."
I smile. "I will, mother. She is stronger than I can ever be."
"And you respect that, too. There is only one other man I have seen that in."
"Father?"
"Yes. Now go. Go to her. She may be waiting. Don't keep her that way."
I feel my eyes go wide as I fear she may be sitting there in the grass, waiting for me to come to her. "You're right! Thank you, mother."
She reaches over and grabs both my hands. I notice how small she is. I have grown. "It's my job as a mother, son. Now go."
I nod, clutching the basket as I run out the door of our cottage and into the village that our residence stays.
I wave to my friends, my feet carrying me out to the wide open fields, which soon enter me into the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and rivers, trying to keep my shirt and breeches from getting soiled.
As I exit the forest, I jump onto a log to walk over the rushing rapids beneath me. I steady myself, as I don't want to fall and have the river carry me off.
Lucky enough, I jump onto the other side, and in an instant I am back to running.
My love lives on a farm, but her father has enough time to teach her how to fight. She helps me every so often with my combat.
But not today. It has been a month or so since last I saw her. I just want to be with her. Hold her. Caress her.
I soon make it out to another wide open field, but this time, she is there.
There, in the center of the field of green, is my love, sitting down on a cloth she had lain down for both of us.
I stop and watch her from afar. She wears a white linen chemise blouse, the sleeves flare out, allowing her wrists to breath, unlike the dresses he saw women wear in the towns.
The color compliments her pale skin and light blonde hair put up in a bun, which she now tucks her fringe behind her ear, a movement that I favor, because her stunning sky blue eyes always glance off to the side, as if contemplating something. Our love? Our marriage? Maybe something completely different?
Her eyes search the fields, soon stopping upon me. Her face remains blank, her lips a straight line, as she lifts her hand up to wave towards me.
I smile wide, and raise my hand to wave back before I run over to her position, every inch lost between us revealing another lovely detail about her. Her pronounced nose. Her soft pink lips. The speckle of freckles that grace her shoulders. Her delicate-looking fingers that could crush mine in an instant.
She is amazing at that, making herself seem weak. She is smaller than me, and uses that to her advantage in combat. I have seen her throw men bigger than her to the ground.
She truly is an amazing woman.
As I close in, I begin to speak, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"
She speaks, her voice a lovely angelic one that could put any man at ease, "Not long. Don't worry yourself. I am just glad that winter is over so that we can see each other once again. You look like you have grown, my love."
I look down at myself, seeing that I have grown. Taller, stronger. My mother always remarks on how much of a man I am becoming. How proud she is of me.
"What have you brought?" She asks, eyeing the basket in my hands.
I look at it. "Oh, right. I just brought a couple of apples. From our tree."
I watch as her eyes light up. I know she loves apples. So do I. It's one of our many connections.
She stands up, her eyes looking into mine as she steps closer, able to feel my breath hit her skin, expelling the cold breeze with my warm air.
I take her hand, bringing it up to my lips, I kiss her pale skin then let go.
Her hands wrap around the handle of the basket, pulling it from my hands to lay it down on the cloth.
She turns to me, reaching up with her fingers to touch the skin of my cheek. She rubs her thumb across it, then feels the edge of my mandibles with her middle and forefinger, sliding them down to my chin before gripping the sides of my jaw. Her eyes flit down to them, then return to looking up at my eyes.
I feel her fingers tug on my jaw. I comply, leaning down to allow her to lock my upper lip between her lips.
It feels like the first time all over again. An explosion of passion and affection. A fire that has been burning inside both of us, kept us warm over the chilling winter, is now extinguishing as we kiss. My hands wrap around her waist.
Then my least favorite part comes. She pulls away, a sad yet fulfilling end to the sign of compassion. I lean forward, hoping she rethinks it and comes back to continue the kiss. But I realize that if she wants it, she will usually be the first one to start it.
"Come, sit down with me. It's a winsome day, isn't it?" She reaches out to grab my hand and lead me to the cloth, where we both sit down.
I open the basket and pull out the two apples, holding one out to my love.
She glances at the fruit. "Hmm," she says, before pushing my hand back, "Not yet."
I frown, putting the apples back in the basket.
She slides herself closer to me, taking my hand and pulling it up to her cheek before
releasing it from her grasp.
I smile and run my fingers along her smooth, pale skin, earning a little chuckle from the girl.
"Your touch always makes my spine tingle. It exhilarates me. Why do you make me feel so...well?"
I brush the back of my fingers against her jaw. "I don't know, love. You make me feel the same."
She isn't one for smiling much. Her eyes flutter up to meet mine. They show me all the happiness another person's smile would bring.
And I am glad she doesn't need a smile to show it.
It makes her smiles all the more special.
She leans into my touch, like a cat. I even can hear her purr, her eyes closed.
"I missed you so much."
Her eyes open slow, the blue irises shining like the clear skies above. "I missed you too, love. I hate being away from you."
"Me too." I say.
We go silent. It lengthens, almost deafening in our ears.
A chilling breeze, a straggler from the winter, wafts through, my love shivering. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, warming her with my body. This is what I love the most. Just being this close to her. To embrace her. I close my eyes, listening to her breathing.
"We should marry soon. Before next winter."
I nod. "I know. We will. We have time."
She sighs. "I am impatient."
"Oh trust me, my love, I am too. But I just-" I stop and look down at her. She looks back, her eyes so wide and beautiful. They mesmerize me more times than I can count.
"Let's just...worry about that another time. Why don't we just enjoy each other?"
Her eyes look out to the nearby forest. She is lost in her thoughts.
"Yeah...yes, you're right."
I smile and brush strands of hair from her face. I rest my forehead upon hers.
"Can you do one thing for me?"
She looks back at me. "What?"
I grin. "Can you...give me a smile? I miss it."
Her eyebrows raise for a brief moment at my request. She shakes her head.
"You're gonna have to earn it first."
I chuckle, nodding my head as I reach over to stroke her cheek. Again, she leans into it, her eyelids shutting her pupils from the world. I hear her breath; it's smooth, yet it has a slight shudder. She's anxious? Excited? I don't know. She is good at hiding her emotions.
My eyes dart down to her lips. I cup her other cheek with my other hand, and with care, I pull myself nearer to her, closing the gap between our mouths. I turn my head and press my lips against hers.
I feel her arms rest themselves on my shoulders as she pushes into the kiss. I begin to lower myself down onto my back, pulling her with me.
She straddles my waist, her hands now placing themselves on my chest, supporting her small body. I move my hands from her cheeks to her back, placing one hand on her hip as the other runs its forefinger down her spine, feeling every vertebrae, her body shivering with every bump until my hand rests itself on her other hip.
I am reluctant as she pulls up, but that feeling fades away as I notice her hiding her face from my sight by turning it to the side, her hand on her cheek.
"My love," I say, removing my right hand from her hip to hover up to her face, "May I see it?"
Her eyes glance at me, her chest raising as she releases a deep breath before removing her hand and turning her head towards me.
It's magnificent. A true marvel. I call it the eighth wonder of the world. Her smile is truly captivating. In the morning light, it looks radiant, almost brighter than the sun itself as it reflects off her white teeth. I could stare at it all day. Accompanying it is the blush on her cheeks, which only makes it more beautiful.
Her hand reaches up to tuck her fringe behind her ear, glancing at me, waiting for my response. It's always the same.
"You're so beautiful. A true angel," I say, reaching up to cup her cheek, my thumb sliding across her skin.
Her hand comes up to place itself on mine, her eyes closing as her smile turns into a wide grin.
We enjoy this moment, keep it going for as long as we can. We don't want it to end.
We stay there, until the night falls upon us like a blanket.
We stay there, embracing, loving, kissing, enjoying one another's presence.
We stay there.
In those green fields.
