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Summary
Green, then green-gold, then gold and then green again. Sunbeams dripping down dark and waxy leaves to pool on the forest floor. Those eyes – Eiji had never known a person to carry landscapes in them – lingered on Eiji. Eiji, with his neck tight from turning his head, lingered back. Wavering. Touch and go.
The sunflower was the first to drop his stare, head bowing back to the task of wiping down the counter. Eiji drank in the sunlight’s copper kiss to his hair, the artful push and slide of his slender arm.
He couldn’t look away. Wonderer.
It’s too late for it to be the last summer of boyhood, too early for it to be the last summer of adolescence. But New York is dripping and melting in the sultry July that a photography intern and a ceramist weave their souls into each other, and it’s a summer of lasts – of that, they’re sure.