Honeydew Romance

Honeydew Romance

Tiny stars punctured holes in the velvet blanket of night sky, shining radiantly like diamonds. They were the only source of light on that clear June night Donovan and I took a stroll down the lonely dirt road. Tall grasses and honeydew plants surrounded the wholly secluded road, which been rutted out by farm machinery over the years; the only people who ever used that dirt road were farmers who wanted easy access to their fields during planting and harvest seasons.

The prairie grasses grew tall on the side of the beaten road, and thousands of tiny lights flickered amongst the slender grassy blades swaying in the gentle wind. Like cigarette lighters at a concert the fireflies seemed to sway left and right, glistening on and off in what seemed to be synchronized motion. They carried on the glistening magical sight where the stars left off in the horizon, creating the illusion that we were lost in space, surrounded by diamond stars that winked at us playfully.

The scent of sweet, light honeydew graced the air, filling my lungs with an intoxicating freshness. A playful breeze flirted with my hair, its gentle fingers barely brushing it against my cheek.

It was beautiful.

Not just my surroundings seemed beautiful at that instant, the moment and the sheer feeling was beautiful. Even I felt beautiful, ever so slightly, at that moment. As Donovan’s arms pulled me closer toward him, I could feel the heat of his body, and I wondered if he could hear my heart racing. I laced my fingers through his, marveling at the way our hands seemed to fit so perfectly together, weaved so simply, like our relationship.

“It’s a nice night, don’t you think?” Donovan mused aloud, breaking the silence. The vast emptiness absorbed his words; there was no echo. “They just don’t get to see the stars like this in the cities.”

“I pity them,” I whispered. I didn’t know why I was whispering; there was no one to hear us, even if I were to scream at the top of my lungs. I guess I just didn’t want to disturb the serenity that engulfed us, and Donovan had to lean closer to me to hear my words. “They can’t ever be alone like this in the cities, you know? Everywhere you go, there are people.”

“It’s nice that we can be alone like this,” Donovan sighed, hugging me closer. “We can say and do anything we want out here, and there’s no one to see us, and raise eyebrows at every little thing we do.” I got the feeling that he was wondering why we were whispering, and he paused for a moment, then pulled away from me slightly, still keeping our hands laced together. As if overcome by a sudden idea, he grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Gently, he pulled me to the edge of the road, and let himself fall backwards into the tall, soft grass. I gasped in surprised as I toppled after him, freeing my hands from his to break my fall. His body cushioned my plummet, and his hands found their way to my waist.

The tall grass tickled my skin; fireflies floated right past my nose, and the child inside of me was suddenly possessed by the urge to catch one. I made a sudden grab at the closest ball of light that passed, and missed by a mile. I swatted at the next one, and sat up. Donovan laughed, and I could feel his chest contracting beneath my legs as he took in breaths of air.

I looked down at him, pinned to the ground as I sat on him, and I couldn’t fight back a grin. His blonde hair was haphazardly sticking out at all angles, and a reflection of the starry sky shone in his eyes as he looked up at me. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment. Was it the same thing I was?

Instinctively, I leaned down and kissed him, melting against him as my lips met his. My fingers ran through soft strands of his hair without my realization; it had become a habit that I was never consciously aware of. I could feel his hands traveling up my back, and even through my tank top, his fingertips memorizing the curves of my body.

With a slight hesitation, he gently returned my kiss.

A stream of emotions ran through my mind, with the occasional rational thoughts leaping up at me, then submerging again like salmon swimming upstream. We were alone; no one knew where we were. How far would we end up taking our relationship? Was Donovan as shy as I thought he was? Was I in love? What was that inexplicable tingling feeling running through my entire body?

For a moment, our heads moved barely an inch from each other, our noses brushing against each other, and I felt a pleasant chill run up my spine. I gasped for breath, and nearly laughed at myself; I had forgotten to breathe. The sweet essence of honeydew filled my lungs, and I felt that intoxicating freshness seize my senses yet again.

Another kiss; this one more passionate, yet not lacking the same gentle qualities of all the others. I could taste the fresh spearmint flavor of Donovan’s gum. As the tip of his tongue met mine, I could recall all the other thoughts I had harbored about French kissing when I was younger.

It was funny to think that I was once disgusted at the thought of a simple French kiss. I could still remember the way I made a face and wrinkled my nose when “…and you stick your tongues in each other’s mouths…” was used descriptively to educate me in the ways of kissing. And even worse, I could recall Dustin Bitrey’s tongue nearly choking me when I was thirteen.

Quite some time ago, I had ruled Donovan to be a gifted kisser. I know it must sound terribly funny, but it wasn’t just his lips and tongue that did all the kissing. His nose, being slightly long, had a way of brushing gently against my face. His hands and fingers seemed to kiss the rest of my body, and I could feel the thumping of his heart lulling me into a serene dream world.

Was it normal for one to think of such things while kissing another? Was it right to think of the other people I had kissed?

Another pause. Silence said everything there was to be said at that moment, and this time, I remembered to breathe. It was funny how your brain sometimes seemed to forget to do things like that. At least I was sure my heart wouldn’t stop beating; when I was with Donovan, I could always feel it racing, and I was fully aware of the fact that my heart was capable of loving.

A chill, the pleasant kind, ran down my spine, and the exhilarating feeling of lips on my neck took me by surprise. I shifted my weight against Donovan; in the process, my right hand landed somewhere on his inner thigh. I grabbed suddenly at Donovan so I didn’t roll off him.

This seemed to take Donovan by surprise, as he gasped suddenly, and jumped abruptly as if unexpectedly uncomfortable. I sat up, moving my hand, and putting it to rest against my own leg.

“Something wrong?”

He hesitated, then pulled me back on top of him, taking a deep breath, serenity returning to his voice instantaneously. “Not at all,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m just… not entirely used to that feeling yet.” I could tell he was blushing; heat practically radiated off his face. I could feel the blood rising in my own, as I looked away at the stars.

His carnal desires had run away with him, and it was those heated passions that controlled his body, letting it do certain things without his consent. Unfortunately, it was very difficult for the majority of the male population to hide what their emotions caused their bodies to do. It was actually a laughable situation, though I would never tell poor Donovan I found it humorous.

I could sense his feelings of uneasiness, and I rolled off him, into the tall grass. The slender blades tickled my nose, and I squirmed, looking for a softer spot to lay my head. Donovan put an arm around me and pulled me closer, as I lay my head on his chest comfortably and sighed, satisfied. Deep within his chest, I could feel his heart beating, lulling me into a sense of security that locked in all my feelings and emotions, and I suddenly felt like I was on top of the world.

“I—well, I’m sorry about that,” Donovan whispered as his hands fingered my hair; I could hear the nervous tone in his voice. He pulled me tighter against his body, and I never wanted him to let go. If he let go, it would feel like I was falling off the high peak of emotions I was on, plummeting into the harsh realities below.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” my voice reassured him. “I’m the one that should be a little sorry. I dunno, Don… heat of the moment, I guess… My hand didn’t mean to land where it did…”

I stopped talking, realizing what an idiot I sounded like, and just let the moment speak for itself.

I closed my eyes, and felt Donovan’s chest rising and falling as he drew in breath, and I wondered what he was thinking about at that very moment. Perhaps there was something on his mind that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say, or there was the possibility that he was just plain terrified of potential sexual encounters, or maybe he was just so shy that he was scared of everything. Whatever compelled me to question this pulled me deeper into a closed bubble with Donovan, trying to figure him out.

Yet maybe it was the starlight, fireflies, and the honeydew that made me realize that there was something different about that night. Or, perhaps, it was all some psychological hallucination that my mind had created while perfecting the situation, and amplifying the meaning and memory of Donovan’s next words, the sheer state of breathlessness it left me in.

“I love you, Alice.”