flushed cheeks

(ix.)

"flushed cheeks"

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(ix.)

Jill took me to a spot just outside of the city for our picnic, a secluded area near a small river. I laid out the blanket she had brought and helped her set out everything for our lunch. She brought little grilled sandwiches, a bowl of various fruits, and the beverages from the café.

"I didn't really know what to bring." Her voice was soft, nearly swept away in the light breeze. A strand of hair flew in front of her face, and when she tucked it behind her ear, I saw a that her cheeks were a soft pink. "It's all vegan because I didn't know whether you had any dietary needs or anything, and I just wanted to be safe."

It was odd to me that she would be the shy one in the situation, considering the date was her idea and I was typically the one with that role in social situations. I always imagined I looked painfully awkward in such moments, but she just looked adorable, tugging almost self-consciously at the hem of her red, floral dress. The color suited her, bringing out the pinks in her skin and the green in her eyes. A square neckline showed quite a bit of her chest, showcasing some freckles that I would have never thought would be there.

I felt my cheeks warm as I sent her a smile. "It looks yummy." I sat on the blanket, a cliché red checkered one, legs crossed so the pleats of my dress fell just so to cover any embarrassing flashes. Something crinkled in the pocket of my dress, and I flushed deeper, reaching in to withdraw what was there. "I forgot I made cookies."

I set the little plastic bag beside the basket that had carried the food, then looked at her. Her eyes were sparkling in the sunlight, and a grin was on her face. She looked excited. My heart did that funny little flutter it seems to always do around her. "Double chocolate?" Her hands were clenched together in her lap, as if to restrain herself.

I nodded.

"Double chocolate is my favorite!" She exclaimed.

I ducked my head to hide my expression. My cheeks were on fire, as usual, and I was smiling just a little too much. I had to look away from her. She looked too beautiful with that expression on her face, all that shining excitement. And with such a nice backdrop—blue sky, green trees, the shimmering river. It was too much for me.

When I finally worked up the courage to look back up, she was pouring the water from the bottles into some cups that I did not notice before. They were tall and thin, clear glass, decorated with dainty blue and yellow flowers.

"These are cute," I said. She offered me one of the glasses, and I took it gladly. It was cool to the touch, like we did not just walk 15 minutes outside of town limits. "Where did you get them?" My fingers ran over the decorations. The flower patterns were raised, like paint. It reminded me of the cup I purchased from the coffee shop.

"Oh," she grinned. "I decorated them." Her cheeks were pink. She was proud of that fact. It practically radiated from her.

"That's cool," I shifted, uncomfortable with my attempt at expressing what I was thinking. My thumb continued to brush over the design. "Do you design the cups at the café, too?"

"Yeah." She reached for one of the sandwiches before glancing back at me. "The one you had when we first met was one of my favorites."

Nodding, I reached for one of the little sandwiches too and took a bite, forcing myself to just do it. Not to think about it. "Mine too," I mumbled, hand in front of my mouth to maintain some semblance of politeness. The sandwich was still crispy from being grilled, probably in a press of some kind, the contents inside still warm. Cheese, mushrooms, some kind of leafy green.