Your days with them

A bike with a basket holding the small tote bag filled with newly bought books lays placid on the previously untouched grass. Beside your own bike is another, they do not have a basket nor a bag.

You take the bag decorated with logos and pins from various places, and begin to choose which book you will read first, before you can decide the bag is taken from your grasp. You turn around to see the person you rode with looking through the bag.
"I told you I already read this one, might as well read it first then," they took the book from the bag. The book did not look familiar to you but they looked at it as if it were an old friend.

You lower yourself into the damp grass, it had rained a few hours prior you almost thought to cancel the day's plans but your friend insisted it'd be even better.

They walked over to the base of the tall evergreen and propped themselves against the trunk, you looked up and decided to lay down on the cool autumn grass, clouds drifted past calmly as your friend clears their throat and reads.
"Isn't this the most perfect day?" You find yourself saying,
"only because I'm with the most perfect of people."
You laugh breathlessly to yourself, letting them carry on reading the story. The book was about a group of magical misfits or something, if you were perfectly honest you'd say you weren't really paying attention.

You were just bathing in the soft sun and cool shade, half of the shade cast its self from the branches of the tree but it did not drape over all of you. The breeze was almost non existent, it occurred just enough to remind you of its presence but that was all.

The crisp noise of newly bought books pages was an occasional sound, mainly the sounds of distant wildlife was there you could hear birds chirping away from the small clearing you were presently in nothing close to your current place though, your bikes and their reading must have scared some things off. You carried on half listening to your friend reading and half listening to the sounds that surrounded you.

The whole day went slow, but a perfect slow. A slow that felt like you could last forever in its everlasting beauty and trust in its everlasting bliss. You and your friend read through most of the bag of books you didn't finish them all, but that was ok.

Everything was so perfect that you agreed to do the same another time. You don't believe that any other time can compare to this time, the first time of many day trips disappearing into the woods and reading, listening and feeling.

As you bike home it begins to rain ever so softly, you look over to your friend and share a smile. You part ways with them, you will see them again the next time you meet up. Which is never too far away as neither of you can think of a more perfect thing to do.

The end