Twenty-Eight
"You're sure you're not cold or anything?"
I asked Dylan, the two of us taking a walk down to the park. Though it wasn't freezing outside, the wind still buzzed with a sense of chill and I foolishly left my jacket at home again. Dylan had offered me his.
"Nah. I'm the sun God, remember?"
"Ah yes, Apollo. How could I have been so foolish."
Laughing, we continued on into the park, finding a bench that faced out towards the frozen lake.
We both sat down, Dylan wrapping his arm over my shoulders and holding me close.
"You smell good today."
"Are you implying I don't always smell good?"
I rolled my eyes and nestled my head on his chest.
There was a duck waddling around on the frozen water, and I wondered why it hadn't migrated south for the winter. Why it had chosen the cold instability, rather then the company of friends.
"Have you heard anything from Tina?"
I shook my head.
"Not since I dropped the skirt off the other night. I think she's still pretty pissed. Or lonely. Hell, I don't even know."
Dylan's cologne reminded me of the summer; notes of beechwood and salty ocean tides. I traced my fingers over his chest, the mild distraction keeping me from continuing to think about the predicament with Tina.
"She knows you love her. And I think that's why she hasn't come back yet. You're the only one who's never left her for the dogs and she doesn't know what to make of it."
"Or maybe she's just stubborn."
I retorted, sitting up and crossing my arms.
"Yeah. That could be it too."
The duck sat down upon the water, tucked its feet into its feathers, and rested its head down in solitude.
