As far as official hideouts go, the treehouse was ours. Our days went the same, the usual farm chores in the morning, with Nick doing significantly more than me, followed by nights spent here. He also consistently pressured me into reading, and I had already finished his first book he assigned to me, The Outsiders. He wasted no time stuffing another book into my hands, this time Wuthering Heights, a book he was quite insistent was absolutely necessary to read.
And that's where we are now, laying down in the hammock together with my head on his chest. His fingers play in my hair, tickling my scalp, and I can't help but find it comforting.
But despite how comforting it is, I need to escape, and fast. Nick might consider this book to be a literary classic, but to me, it was an absolute snore. Before I could find a way to snake my way out of reading, he speaks.
"You're bored, aren't you?" I shift myself upright so that we're face to face.
"No, I'm not!" I say, somewhat unconvincingly. He stares at me with knowing eyes. "Ok I am!" How do you know?"
He points at my book. "You've been reading the same page for the last ten minutes." I look down at the page. He's right. Maybe I should do a better job of pretending next time.
He gets up from beside me, and I'm already lonely with his presence.
"Up, up, up" he says, shooing me with my hands. "We're going on an adventure."
I grab onto the hammock in protest. I'm bored, but not get-up-and-do-physical-activity bored.
"I envisioned something with less physical activity involved." I bat my eyes at him, trying to use my fine skills of persuasion.
"You can bat your pretty eyes at me all you want, we're still going." My heart flips. He thinks my eyes are pretty? My entire body goes warm, but I try not to let him know.
I pout my lips. I guess my skills aren't so fine after all. "Fine," I say, begrudgingly getting up. "But this better be good."
"Because laying on the hammock for four hours is such a hard activity to beat?" he throws back.
"You bet your pretty face it is." I say it nonchalantly, but I can see his face slightly turn red. No way!
"Are you blushing?" I say, trying and failing to contain my laughter.
"I have no clue what your talking about," he says, the tips of his ears growing red.
My laughs are full out now. "You have nothing to be embarrassed of. I really like your pretty little face."
"Can we go now?" he says exasperatedly, and I decide to put him out of his misery. "Fine, but only because your pretty face asked me to."
He shoots me a glare, his face a dark crimson, and I put my hands up defensively. "That was the last one, I swear!"
He seems unconvinced, but I quickly change the topic.
"Where are we going anyway?" I ask as we make our way towards the door. I expect him to cross the rickety bridge over the stream, but he turns left onto the porch, leaving me both relieved and intrigued.
"To get a better look," he says, yanking at something on the side of the treehouse. Suddenly, a rope ladder unfurls at his feet.
"A look at what?" I ask as he begins climbing with me at his heels.
"You'll know when you see it." He hoists himself over a ledge, and as I follow him, I realize that we're on the roof. He lays down at the center, staring up at the sky.
"I still don't see it," I say scanning my surroundings for any clues, but the roof is bare.
"Just look," he replies cryptically, and I almost not-so-nicely remind him that that is exactly what I'm doing, when I finally see it.
Right at the center of the sky is a big, red moon, hanging heavy in the sky. I lay down beside him, too awe-inspired to say a word. It seems, magical almost, with its deep, rich color, and I can't believe that it's unknowingly been above me this entire time.
"It's beautiful," I say, struggling to find the words to describe how truly stunning it is.
"I know," he whispers.
But when I turn towards him, he's not looking at the sky. His eyes plore into mine, and in the single look that we share, a thousand words are swapped between us. All our apprehensions, our fears for our hearts, are sent between each other. And a single reply: a promise not to break each other. A promise so easily said but so hardly kept.
His hand strokes my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"It seems almost too good to be true," he says, and now I really can't tell if he's talking about us or the moon. But he's so close to me, and he's leaning closer still, and in that moment I realize that I don't care if he's talking about me or the moon or the stars because I mean it about him, and him alone.
And that, is enough to me.
So, I lean in and kiss him. And when my lips touch his, my thoughts about the moon, stars, and everything in between are quickly forgotten as I become lost in him.
Lost in Nick.
~~~
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Also, for everyone wondering about her and Jack, all will soon be revealed! ;)
-K