Lovesick ✔

chapter thirty ; under the moonlight

AMOS

"You wanna head over to the park or do you wanna go a little further than that?" Micah questioned, looking at me for my answer. 

"How about we explore a little tonight?" I suggested. "The park's getting repetitive."

"As you wish, doctor," he responded before grabbing my hand and rushing over to the end of the street before taking several unfamiliar turns whilst jogging. Since he was far taller than I was and had much longer legs, it was incredibly difficult following him, even though he was holding onto my wrist. I was already beginning to lose my breath within the first few turns. 

"You look like you know where you're going," I huffed, trying to catch my breath. 

"I don't," he admitted, looking back at me with a grin. 

Because we were practically running at that point, his hair was bouncing along with every step of his and it kind of made him look adorable: running into an empty street with a bunch of street lights behind and beside him, illuminating his features. 

"You're kinda pretty," I blurted out against my better judgement.

"Why thank you," he chuckled, slowing down to ruffle my hair. 

"Stop doing that," I complained, attempting to fix my hair. 

"You're quite pretty yourself, doctor," he complimented before grabbing a hold of my wrist and jogging into the darkness again. 

"This is so much fun!" he cheered before speeding up only a little. 

"Yeah, try finding your way back home after this," I snorted, stopping halfway through to catch my breath. It was cold outside so I wasn't sweating but I was damn near it from the amount of exercise we'd just done. 

"You okay?" he questioned, walking over to me. "Who knew a doctor could be this unfit?"

I shot him a quick glare to which he responded, with arms raised in the air, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

He then took the opportunity to look around him and admire his surroundings, "Woah. This place is breathtaking."

"There's literally nothing around us," I snorted. 

"There's something beautiful about the nothingness," he said as if he were a poet from the 18th century. 

"I think I see a pond nearby," I pointed out, looking off into the distance.

"Woah, you've got sharp eyesight," he commented, walking over beside me to try and look at where I was looking. "Lead the way, captain."

I took the chance to wrap my fingers around his wrist and pulled him over to where the pond was (whilst walking this time). It was surprisingly further than it seemed but we managed to make it there without dying from the cold. 

"Here," I said, a cloud of white fog exiting my mouth with every word, further proving just how cold it was outside. "It's nothing too special but it's pretty to look at. Would've been better if we came out here in the evening."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, grabbing a pebble from nearby and skipping it over the surface of the water, counting how many times it bounced under his breath before it eventually sank into the water.

"It would've been prettier in the evening," I said, trying to copy what he'd just done. However, the rock I'd thrown ended up sinking in one go after forming a series of ripples. I let out a disappointed sigh. 

"I don't think so. You've got to learn to enjoy nature at every time of the day," he started before walking over to me and handing me a pebble he'd picked. "Here, try again."

I said nothing but attempted skipping it once again. It jumped a decent number of times before disappearing into the water. I applauded myself, "Did you see that?"

"I did," he nodded. "Well done, doc. The trick is to use smooth pebbles instead of rocks with rough edges."

"Like this one?" I questioned, picking up a bigger pebble from the ground.

"That's too big," he said, shaking his head. "Try finding a smaller one."

"You seem to be an expert at this," I commented, searching around for smaller pebbles with my phone's flashlight. 

"I used to skip stones with my father all the time when I was younger," he admitted. "It was a regular thing we'd do whenever we went near the lake back in my hometown."

"Near the lake?" I questioned, looking over at him whilst he simply continued skipping stones. 

"Yep," he nodded. "My dad was passionate about catching fish. He'd do it with my mom's old gowns because he couldn't afford a fishing hook, they were expensive at that time, especially in the area we lived."

"I'm sure your dad is proud of you now then," I grinned sadly to myself. "You turned out well."

He remained silent for a moment before turning his head back only a little so he could face me, the torrents of moonbeam pouring down onto us through the leaves of the trees that towered above us making him look almost angelic, "Thanks, Amos. I appreciate that."

And in that moment, for whatever reason there was, I felt my heart skip a beat.