Elio woke the morning before his 21st birthday. He had so much on his mind; his birthday, his new responsibilities, and as always, Oliver.
This meant one thing, he needed to go to his spot, his river. He pulled on some beige shorts, a vest top, and that light blue shirt. Trying to forget about Oliver is hard, sometimes he gives in. Today he needed a break, so the Oliver shirt wasn't such a bad idea. He quickly drank some freshly made lemonade, picked a few peaches and put them in his backpack, then went to get his bike. As if today couldn't go any worse, Anchise's bike was leant against his on the wall. The bike he'd given Oliver that summer; that wonderful summer.
Elio arrived at the lake about half an hour later. He sat on that patch of grass he and Oliver had laid on, in the sun. Oliver's presence was warmer than the suns rays bursting through the leaves in Elio's opinion.
An hour after thinking, reading, writing music, his eyelids were falling heavy. He laid back, hands behind his head. He drifted off in a matter of minutes, this was new to him, especially since the day Oliver left.
Elio was awoken by the sound of footsteps. This is the least popular place he knows about, he didn't think anyone else knew about it. Except of course...
Oliver.
Elio sat up, looking around frantically. From around the bushes, he saw the front wheel of a bike. Above the bush he could see dark blonde hair being blown by the wind. What. The. Fuck.
The man riding the bike turned around the bush, into the grass. His eyes met Elio's. He slammed on the brakes, jumped off the bike and dropped it, it's metal frame slamming to the ground. He slowly walked over to Elio. Elio had pulled his knees up, rested his arms on them and buried his face, hoping this was dream. The man slowly knelt down in front of him. He put a hand on each of Elio's shoulders, then moved one to under his chin. He leant on Elio's head and whispered into his curly brown hair a word with a very distinct place in Elio's memories.
"Oliver".
