AUTHOR: Bosbie

4th of October, 2014

You always make sure to wear long sleeves.

"It's hot," he complains beside you as you walk under the shadows of the evergreens, "And it's, like, a hundred degrees. And I didn't even bring any sunscreen. I'm going to burn, Arthur."

You're annoying, you want to say, this was your idea anyway. Who even goes camping in a middle of a heat wave anyway. This is why no one else came, not even your brother. I wouldn't've came either if you hadn't forced me to. Idiot.

But you don't say a word. Talking has become quite hard for you to do lately.

("It'll take your mind off of…you know," was his explanation for this random trip into the wilderness, and you didn't have the heart to tell him that nothing could ever make you forget.)

"Aren't you hot?" he asks, sitting across from you in his sleeping bag, the small LED lantern (not fire, never fire) he brought dimly illuminating the tent he had set up ("Thanks for the help, Art," he had said sarcastically as he fumbled with the tent poles. You had been watching him from under a large tree, your hands tucked inside your jacket pockets.). The sky is dark, and you decide that you like how brighter the stars seem to be here than when you are in the city.

I'm melting. You shake your head.

"…Hey. You can take your jacket off, y'know," he says after a moment of silence. His voice is soft and gentle. You admire the way the lantern light accentuates his high cheekbones, his long eyelashes. He's beautiful. "C'mon, Arthur. No one else is here. It's just you and me."

You shake your head.

He rests his hand on your shoulder. You didn't even notice how much you're trembling. "It's okay," he says, pulling you into a hug. "Sorry. For pushing you. You don't need to do anything you don't want to do." Even though it's so humid out and you're both sweaty and smell of toilet, you can't help but melt into the warmth of his skin.

"Can you believe it?" he says as he hauls the camping supplies into the back of his pick-up truck. "The day we leave the weather finally cools down to an actually bearable temperature. Thanks, Mother Nature. Glad to see how much you care."

He turns to face you, ready to say something, but his mouth closes with a click because your jacket is tied around your waist. Your paleness contrasts sharply with the large burn marks that cover most of your visible skin.

You always make sure to wear long sleeves.

"It's hot out, isn't it, Alfred?" you say, waiting for a reaction.

His eyes widen and his lips tremble. Tears start to form at the corner of his eyes, but that could just be your imagination.

You don't really smile much anymore. You give it a try.