#hoffparker

We were lying in a field together, so close we were practically touching. We were lying on our sides. I was looking into his eyes, and I could feel his breath on my face. It felt intimate, and as I thought about the way we were when we met, I wondered how things ended up like this.

I slowly reached a hand up, and ran it through his hair.

He didn’t say anything, but I heard his breath hitch.

“You know,” I said, keeping my voice quiet, “Someone probably takes care of these fields?”

“What led you to that?” Hoffman asked.

I reached over, pointing out a flower to him. “Blue poppies. They don’t naturally occur here. They’d have to have been planted.”

He nodded. “Interesting. Plants aren’t exactly my forte.”

“I just know flowers,” I said. “If you expected me to like... point out things that are edible, I wouldn’t be able to. But I like flowers.”

This time he only nodded as a response.

I put my hands behind my head, sticking my elbows out.

We sat there for a few moments and I started to whistle.

He didn’t follow my lead, choosing to roll over and stare off at whatever he was seeing.

“Do you like the flowers?” He asked.

“Yeah. I think they’re cool. Probably one of my favorites. They remind me of something.”

“What do they remind you of?”

Sometimes I would purposefully be vague so he’d have to ask more questions. Despite the way he pretended not to be interested in me, he couldn’t help but ask more.

“Someone I know,” I said, turning over to give him a little boop on the nose.

He gave me a look. “Why would that be?”

“Oh, a close friend of mine has pretty blue eyes.”

“A close friend?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm. Maybe you know him?” I gave him a little grin. It was almost a smirk, but not quite.

“Do I?”

“His name’s Hoffman.”

“And this is a close friend of yours?” He asked.

“Mhm. I want him to kiss me and everything.” I nodded.

“I can’t speak for all friendships, but I’m not sure that would be classified as close friends.”

“I think it would.”

We were close again. Back to feeling his breath on my face. He was breathing almost heavily, and I briefly wondered why that was.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered.

“Good,” I whispered back.

Then we were kissing. It was magical. It was lovely. It was interesting. And it was everything that I dreamed that kissing him would be.