Under the apple tree.
Alicia sat under the tree, the blossom petals falling into her softly curled hair. Her fingers traced an intricate pattern on the grass, and she smiled. She was humming a playgroud song, which she learned from her childhood, called "Under the apple tree". (A/N: You all know this one, right?;D) Her eyes followed her hand as it slowly moved, almost mindlessly. George stood behind the very same tree, watching her, as he had for the past two hours. It might have seemed stalkerish, had he not nodded off at least four times. He couldn't help it, though. He watched her all the time, without even knowing it. She was just... Watchable.
After another ten minutes of thinking what to say to Alicia, George walked next to her and sat down.
"You alright there, blossom head?" he laughed, reaching up and taking one of the flowers out of her hair.
"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine... Just thinking, and stuff," she mumbled softly, looking up and watching the lake ripple softly in the gentle afternoon breeze.
"You were singing. What song was it?" he asked, turning to face her.
"Oh, that? It's just a thing I did with my friends before I came here. Under the apple tree. It's a kids song, really," she giggled, turning to him and crossing her legs.
"Oh, right. How does it go? Sing it again," he asked, watching as more and more pinky petals landed on and around her.
"Do I have to? It's so stupid!" she laughed, poking him in the ribs.
"Yes. Yes you do. And don't you poke me! I don't like being poked. If you poke me, I'll tickle you. And if you don't sing it, I'll tickle you. Sing, now!" George grinned, ruffling his hair.
"Oh, fine... Don't laugh, though... Under, the apple tree. My boyfriend, said to me. Kiss me, hug me, tell me that you love me. I... Love... You," she sang softly. "But you have to do these weird actions to it too. The first two lines, you do this clappy thing, but that takes effort to explain. But then for 'kiss me', you press your fingers to your lips," she said, doing so. "Then, for 'hug me' you wrap your arms around yourself, like this," she said, hugging herself. "And then, for 'love me', you blow a kiss to someone," she said, blowing him a kiss and giggling. "And when you say 'I love you', you have to go further and further into a split. The person who doesn't fall over wins. And that was always me, because I can do a full split. So I'm beast at it," she grinned, demonstrating what she meant. George sat and looked at her totally bewildered.
"Okay, how can you do that? It shouldn't be possible... Seriously, how do you even..." he questioned, still not understanding how doing a split was possible.
"Practise, George. Practise," she laughed, sitting back on her knees and grinning. He smiled back, but not actually listening. He saw her lips moving, he saw her eyes shining, he saw her hair blowing backwards gently, but he didn't hear any words come from her mouth.
"George, what're you looking at?" she asked after two minutes, starting to worry she had something on her face. "Do I have something in my hair, or what? Because you've been staring for ages..."
"Oh, what, huh? Well, this is sufficiently awkward, then... Uh, no, you don't. I was just, uh, well. I've gotta, uh, be, going. Yeah, going. I'll see you... Tomorrow, or later... I uh, yeah," he stuttered, standing up and shaking all of the leaves out of his hair, blushing redder than a tomato.
"Aha, okay. See you at practise at seven. Oliver will go ballistic if you don't show. Be there, unless you're dying, alright?" she joked, standing up to give him a hug. She took the step towards him and was stood a few centimetres away, when he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He turned away, feeling quite satisfied and proud of himself. She turned away too, blushing right red. George had kissed her. On the lips. For a whole two seconds. Eek!
She sat back down on the grass, singing again.
Under, the apple tree.
My Georgie, said to me.
Kiss me, hug me,
Tell me that you love me.
I... Love... You...