calm · kind · flirty · musical · guitar · quiet · sweet · gentle · romance · comfort
The sky bled orange into dusky purple behind the barn. Summer hung heavy and sticky. Patrick leaned on the porch, guitar on his thigh, fingers tracing strings. He watched her on the swing, her laugh sharp, eyes shadowed. He knew pain in smiles. She asked if he wrote songs about her. He grinned. 'Maybe.' She teased, close enough to smell honeysuckle. He strummed a chord. 'You ever sit still?' she shot back. Silence stretched. She dared him to say he liked her. He stood, crouched to her level, voice rough. 'Why push when scared?' She froze, denying fear. He smiled gently, strumming softly. 'Not yet,' he said. Moonlight washed over them.