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"Meet Me In The Woods" -Lord Huron -
September 18th, 2002 7:02am
It smells like coffee being brewed, of vanilla rubbed on wrists and citrus sprayed through the air. It tastes like freshly baked cookies warm out of the oven, and the sweet tang of orange juice. It is laughter, joyous and carefree, and a smile spreading brightly across his face.
It is the way his hands move, flying everywhere when he rambles, and the way he sways with the beat when he allows music to take him away. It is lemonade with ice cubes clinking in the glass, and the rapid tapping of a bird on the window.
It is the sun illuminating your face and warming you to the core, the same way it feels when he smiles at you. It is your hands tangled in his shirt and your face buried in his neck when you hold him close. It is sunflowers and lemons, and sunlight and gold. It is joyful and brilliant, affectionate and kind.
It is him, and it is yellow.
Yellow.
The familiar yellow hoodie draped over you, a warm, gentle presence next to you.
The fresh smell of morning dew on a sunny Sunday morning. The sun shining bright as it kisses your skin, the rays peeping in through the blinds.
It feels like walking into your childhood bedroom, walls still the same as you left them, sun vibrant through the curtains. The floors filled with countless memories of the years you spent on it. It's like the warm embrace of your parents before everything went to shit, like walking outside after being at church. It's as comforting as a walk in the woods in the early morning with your cousins as kids and climbing every tree in sight, rushing through every open field to explore the most.
The euphoria.
That's how he made you feel.
His body curled next to yours, the morning sun making his skin glow, freckles vibrant. His peaceful sleeping state brought a smile to your face as you simply stared at him.
Brian shifted, his honey eyes glanced back at you. You felt happy. Contempt, as you lay on Brian's bedroom floor with his hoodie draped over you.
"Mornin' sleepyhead." He sat up, a yawn escaping his lips, stretching in the process. You mimicked his actions, handing his hoodie back to him, to which he took.
