The Line

Twenty Eight Degrees

If it feels like paradise running through your bloody veins,
You know it's love heading your way - George Ezra, Paradise 

We stop the roofless car at a clearing and move to sit on the tops of the back seats, being able to see the vast ocean in our sights.

Feeling the soft burn from the white leather beneath us, the trees around swathe us in their cool, relieving shade. The sunlight dancing through as their leaves move in the wind.

The burning sun reflects from the water like diamonds, moving in ripples as birds take flight like silhouettes in front of the bright sky. 

A cool breeze saves us from the heat, like silk draping over our bodies and in-between our clothes. 

The waves whispering below, the leaves having hushed conversations, insects chirping and birds singing. The sounds of summer fill the hot thick air.

An arm rests around my shoulders despite the afternoon warmth. I lean into him and kiss his right cheek, our noses brushing. Skin smelling like the humidity.

Smiles erupt that reach our squinting eyes, and contentedness blooms that reaches the fearless blue sky, and back.