Canopy

The Hours Between Goodbye and Hello

-Phil-

"Would you rather have flippers for feet or be terrible at Mario Cart?" Dan is holding the game controller in his big hands, his long, nimble, fingers wrapped around it. I love his silly questions. He reminds me of myself, but only the best parts of me. I giggle.

"Flipper feet, definitely," I reply with confidence. "Then I could beat you at swimming across the lake as well." I smirk, and I watch his dark brows lift along with his broad shoulders.

I've decided that he is an actual angel. There are moments in which I believe that I see the confirmation through tiny details that may go unnoticed by anyone else - by anyone else who has not fallen head-over-heels in love with him that is. I can't be the only one.

"Is that another challenge? Because I warn you, I am...actually a terrible swimmer." He laughs and shakes his head. God, I am falling deeper and deeper.

"That's okay," I reply. "I would still really like you if that were true."

His dark eyes seem to grow richer at this. I think it's pretty obvious that I have feelings for him, but he must not believe it entirely.

Dan's been here for a little over an hour, and already it feels like we have known each other for an eternity; maybe we have. Perhaps we are picking up right where we left off in our last lifetime together.

Last night, when I said that I wanted to see him again "tomorrow," I meant it. What I had in mind was a bit unrealistic; I was hoping to see his face the moment I opened my eyes. The hours between our goodbye and our next hello were far too many.

The strangest part about these feelings is that I wouldn't feel entirely ridiculous speaking them aloud to Dan. I don't think he would flinch, and I know that he wouldn't run. I believe that he has things to say too - things that he wants to say but doesn't maybe know how to say. Already, I have noticed him twisting his mouth into funny shapes, pressing his perfect lips together, presumably in an effort to keep the words from spilling out into the air between us.

It's moments like this, however, when one of us has the guts to say something, that the other seizes the opportunity to let a truth slip.

"Yeah? Maybe I would still really like you even if you sucked at Mario Cart." He grins and winks, making my insides feel like a cannon full of confetti.

Our knees are inches only apart on the sofa, and I use mine to nudge his playfully. It feels completely natural and ridiculously exciting. That bizarre energy fills me up all over again. He nudges me back with a bit more force. I must look completely vacant because my mind has gone to the image of a full tackle, in which I topple him over on my sofa and kiss him. I want to feel his lips against mine, his chest against my chest, our noses alongside each other's. I want to be so close that I can inhale the scent of his skin into my lungs and hold it in my memory.

"Do you really swim in the lake?" Dan is looking at me now expectantly, and I know for sure that I need to lasso my fantasies and stay in the moment.

"What? Oh, yeah...sorry. I do actually. The water's quite lovely; it's clean and clear. You can see all the way to the bottom, even beyond the end of the dock." I toss my game controller on to the coffee table and smile.

Dan looks surprised. "I don't know if that would make it better or worse for me. I have an actual fear of deep water," he giggles. "I always imagine gross stuff under there, you know, like slimy pipes covered in barnacles." He makes his fingers crawl along his thighs and I can't help but to think about how much I wish that they were mine.

I laugh too. "There's nothing like that here Dan. You will only see rocks and reed grass, or maybe the occasional small fish."

"Can we maybe just put our feet in the water, you know, to start?" He looks at me cutely, one dimple a bit deeper than the other. I want to touch his face so badly.