"I know we broke up, but.., " he whispers in my ear, trailing his finger lightly along my arm. He places a soft kiss on my collarbone, making a shiver course through me.
He tilts his head so he's staring straight into my eyes. His pupils dilate as...
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Flashback
I sit on the pavement at the soccer field, a bottle of water in my hand, my hair flying all over the place. I was the only left after soccer practice because dad was running late.
I take a sip from my water again, and let my head fall to stare at the dark green grass. I didn't know the time, but I knew it was getting late. I knew I was getting scared and feeling lonely.
I play with the grass with my feet, pulling it out from the roots. A feel a hand tap my shoulders, and I look up with a smile. My face falls when I see it's not dad.
My heart beats faster when I see a creepy man smiling at me. I wanted to scream stranger danger, but his smile wasn't frightening, it was gentle and filled with compassion.
"Where are your parents?" he asks with a smile.
I look at him with narrow eyes, wondering if I could trust him or not. "They went to get me ice cream from that shop over there, " I lie, pointing at any random shop.
The man purses his lips and nods his head. He sits next to me on the pavement. "You know when I was younger, this place didn't use to be a soccer field, " he says, staring straight ahead.
"What was it?" my curiosity gets the best of me.
"It was just an ordinary sand field. My friends and I used to come here and play soccer on the hot sand during the summer. Most people joined in, and eventually, it became our town's signature soccer field, " he laughs, reminiscing the old memory.
"How come it's with grasses now if it was filled with sand before?" I ask, tilting my head.
"Irrigation? Mowing? I don't know, " he mimics my facial expression. "But they did something to make the conditions better for the next generation."
I nod my head, although I didn't really understand what he meant. "How old are you?" he asks.
Since my left hand occupied a bottle of water, I raise my right hand, signaling a five before adding a one.
" Fifty-one?" he frowns.
"No, " I burst out laughing. "Six. I'm six."
" Oh..My daughter is six years old, too, " he replies with a laugh.
He stayed with me, talking and making me laugh until my dad came to pick me up.
The next day, the man brings his sulking daughter to the soccer field. I knew her from school, but I've never really spoken to her. She played soccer terribly but always stayed as late as I did.
Her dad always seems to pick her up the same time my father picked me up. And that was how we became friends. By waiting for our dads together after soccer practice.
