𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐗𝐕𝐈 : 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭

Mr. Kirstein's eyes widened, but he quickly relaxed his face. "Well, I can assure you that no oil is in my hair, so you must smell it on yourself."

"Did I ever say it was in your hair?"

You reached up just high enough to run your hand through his locks. He grimaced as soon as your pads made contact with his scalp. His hair felt soft and damp like a freshly washed puppy, and you couldn't help but wonder if he took so long because he bathed himself before heading down. Bringing your hand down a few inches under your nose, you confirmed your suspicion when you caught a whiff of the familiar floral scent.

"Ah ha! My goodness, I didn't even know you owned perfume—let alone used it! Who do you plan on seeing today? The Queen of England?!"

It was cruel, but sharp laughter escaped your chest while Mr. Kirstein turned scarlet. You continued giggling long after you filled Lady's saddlebags with half of the man's unnecessary picnic goods and hopped onto the white mare's back. You allowed your trusted steed to lead your blushing fool and his dark horse in whatever direction she chose. Eventually, you forced yourself to stop thinking of Mr. Kirstein's adorable, pouting face as it elicited more eruptions from your stomach to the point of pain.

Once you had been quiet for almost five minutes, Mr. Kirstein asked, "Are you finally finished?" Unfortunately, his voice reminded you of his presence, which reminded you of his face and how funny the situation was, and your laughter bubbled up again.

"I am trying to stop. I just can't believe you've prettied yourself so nicely just to ride and eat."

"...You think I look pretty?"

You might not be able to see him, but his words alone painted a prideful, cheeky smile in your imagination.

"Absolutely breathtaking , Mr. Kirstein," you barely contained the chuckles shaking your words. "Your hair reminds me of a prized hen fit for the fair, and you smell like the richest belle of the ball."

A click of your companion's tongue and a scoff forced you to explode again. Hopefully, he understood that you never meant to insult him but rather engage in playful banter. It certainly didn't help that he made it so easy to pick on him with his beauty routine and fancy clothes.

The rest of the ride was in blissful silence as Lady took the lead. You only realized once you entered that familiar green hole that she had carried you to the sacred cedar grove.

During the day, the clearing was an enchanted oasis in the densely packed foliage. Sunlight shimmered through the canopy of deciduous woodland, but a massive open-air gap where the spiritual tree stood alone allowed clover patches and moss to stretch over the earth. Buttercups and bellium poked out, popping yellow and white dots in the lush, green carpet. Bumblebees, butterflies, moths, and dragonflies buzzed, fluttered, and darted in every direction.

This grove was the one place where gnats never bombed your eyelashes, mosquitos never nipped at your ankles, and wasps never hunted you down. It was a haven for gentle things–a place where you could be alone and let the world disappear for an hour or two when things became too much to handle or dreams became too familiar.

You slid off Lady and tied her to the same oak where you always kept her. Mr. Kirstein quietly copied your actions as you moved to unload her saddlebags, wanting to get over your work as quickly as possible so you could enjoy the beautiful weather.

"Grab Lucy and go sit in the grass," Mr. Kirstein instructed from a step or two behind. "I will unpack."

"It's fine. I'll work faster than you." You laughed softly, knowing you were only being honest. It was not the first time you would make preparations for a picnic, and you doubted it would be the last.