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They were resting, deep inside the quiet.
At first, the tree stump looked like it would've been deeply uncomfortable to sit on. The darkened bark was jagged, like it was lunging out unnervingly, urging Ritchie and George to back off. But, as they sat down beside each other, hands close but not touching, the ringed surface of the wood revealed its heat, warmed under the golden rays of the sun. It was pleasantly hot, warming their backs and bums and giving them a quiet place for them to rest amongst the giant field.
Ritchie had closed his eyes. He was laying on his back, legs dangling and hands clasped together and resting on his stomach. They rose and fell in a soft rhythm with his breath. George could’ve mistaken him to be asleep if he hadn’t roomed with him thousands of times before, the memory of Ritchie's snoring already ingrained in his mind.
The look on his face was peaceful, angelically so. George couldn’t help but just stare at him, admire him. He was sitting up beside him, elbows straightened and behind him to support his weight. The glow casted by the sun on Ritchie's, making him nearly glow. Pretty highlights cast across his facial features, lining the side of his face and the bridge of his nose, of which was so often the subject of ridicule.
For a moment, his eyes fluttered. The blue of his eyes flashed in the light, blue as the clean clear sky above them. His eyes were closed for a second more then opened fully. Ritchie darted his gaze toward George. For a single heartbeat, one that was loud enough he was sure Ritchie could hear, they met eyes. Then George looked away, back to the horizon.
The sky was simply beautiful. Cloudless, empty, all engulfing. It stretched above them and beyond them. Beyond the horizon. Beyond the reaching flowers and grass that pulled toward the brink of their sight. The clean bold blue painfully reminded George of Ritchie's eyes. Although, the sky was a deeper shade, they were equally entrancing, consuming. He could stare, and it would be everywhere. The sky was all-engulfing, stretching across the abyss like a blanket. The pigment of the endless space followed him with every movement.
“Real gorgeous here, isn’t it?” He heard Ritchie say gently. A soft warm tumble of words.
“Mmhm,” is all George. said back. He waited for a few seconds until he spoke again. “Y’can’t even see the road from here.”
They were on a little trip together. Some while too long since they had last met, last called. It was a little spur of the moment, just out of pure need to get away from the world. Find solace in something old, something familiar again.
It was just the two of them, Ritchie and George, resting on the edge between hearty forest and dancing fieldland.
George swallowed and mustered up the courage to look back at Ritchie. The thought of his eyelashes framing his irises beckoned him.
He turned his head, fairly slight, not wanting to make it so obvious. But, there was Ritchie staring back at him.
It felt like there were stars in his stomach. Black holes. Gravitational pulls that swam around in the space of his belly, sucking the breath and light out of his lungs.
Ritchie smiled a thin grin, flashing his pointy canines. It crinkled the corners of his eyes. George.’s heart swelled.
“What?” George asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Ritchie was still smiling but he turned away. The silhouette of his side profile was accentuated with the colour of the sky. The dips of his nose, lips, and chin were perfect. “You just get this look on your face sometimes. When you’re really thinking.”
“Really huh?” He couldn’t help but feel the pull of his lips as he smiled. Really? You noticed that about me? Cheeky bastard.
Ritchie chuckled. “It’s funny, yeah. You furrow your eyebrows a little and narrow your eyebrows. Like this.” He mimicked what he described. His mouth formed the tiniest pout as he gave a mock serious expression.
He is gorgeous. He is the sweetest. He is absolutely adorable. I want to hold his face. I want to smooth my fingers over the space between his eyes. He is perfect.
“Hm.” George replied.
Ritchie turned back to look at George. Their eyes met. The swirl of life and utter serenity around the two of them. For thousands of feet around them, only them and only empty quietness, filled with the sound of breathing daffodils.
His stomach, his heart, his throat, all of his organs leapt all at once. He thrusted his hand out. It hit Ritchie square on the wrist, George’s fingers wrapping around it.
“I love you.”
Ritchie's mouth pursed a little, his mustache scrunching up, his eyes widening.
The air went still.
A breeze then nudges their hair, draping a few loose strands across their foreheads. Ritchie's smile returned. A little wider than before, a little brighter. A sliver of his teeth shining in between his rose petal lips.
“I love y’too, George.”