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"is this all really worth it?"
your fingers pull at the soft, dewy morning grass and you look across the clouded sky in an attempt to find the sun. your unfinished fruit salad sits abandoned in your lap.
suddenly, roger's hand sweeps across the space in front of you. your startled body jumps and you widen your eyes at him.
he giggles and the soft corners of his mouth rise. "there was a fly."
you smile and hum, not sure what to say. your mind is tired and grey as the sky and floats to focus on the worn texture of roger's yellow blanket beneath you. finally alone after the photoshoot for a picnic, yet you're still caught in your thoughts.
roger touches your shoulder and mumbles your name. he pulls his weight closer to you until you feel his sticky body heat. "what are you worrying about?"
you take his hand and link your fingers, staring at the union and rubbing the bumps of his knuckles — showing long-ago signs of teenage craftsman and sheet metal worker. your gaze rises to his face. and his hair, too, grown out and free of product.
"i like it better natural," you avoid his question (you aren't really sure what the answer is yourself) and pull on a curl of his blond hair.
"that's what all the girls say," he murmurs and looks towards the picnic basket.
"oh? all the girls?" you play naive and watch his chest swell.
"yeah . . . but if i'm being honest, i'm not sure about this band."
"still?"
"still. every second, every moment, it seems, i'm running around to keep everyone in order. makes me feel like some sort of babysitter instead of the leader."
his face is downturned in a frown. he takes up your game of grass pulling and speaks again.
"is this all really worth it? is this how it's meant to be?"
you remove the tupperware container from you lap and pull roger forward, settling him so his head rests on your thighs.
he makes a noise, a slight protest, but falters to your hands, blossoming in the palms you press to his cheeks. his eyelids lower and he parts his lips to let out relaxed breaths. his candid beauty causes a swimming feeling to spread through your limbs; in awe like standing beneath huge trees, in awe at your lover.
a ladybug crawls across his shoulder, orange and spotted against the suede of his jacket, but you decide not to tell him. you'll let him find his luck on his own.
