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you showed up again, a smile across your face, and your helmet in hand.
ready to go? you asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
a hundred percent. i replied brightly, brushing past you to wave goodbye to mum at the doorstep.
looking as beautiful as ever. you complimented smoothly, reaching for your spare helmet.
once again with your compliments — ones that left me flustered and lost for words. anytime, anywhere, you had just the phrases at hand to make me feel appreciated, and to make me feel — frustrated.
not wanting to hurt your feelings, i flash you a well-practised smile. thanks.
your smile surfaced again as you placed the helmet delicately on my head and snapped the clasp in place. your warm brown eyes lingered on mine for a split moment, wandering over the freckles that dusted the bridge of my nose and the slopes of my cheeks.
i was aware of the pressure of your warm hands resting gently on the edges of my jaw, and heat crept up my neck and up my ears, coating my skin in teasing tingles.
your smile just grew, a twinkle sparking behind your gaze. you don’t have to. i shouldn’t be thanked for telling the truth.
