“That’s enough,” I said, more abruptly than I meant to. I sat again on the grass, and he resumed his stretches. I watched the breeze stir his hair; I watched the sun fall on his golden skin. I leaned back and let it fall on me as well. After some time, he stopped and came to sit beside me. We watched the grass, and the trees, and the nubs of new buds, just growing. His voice was remote, almost careless. “You would not be displeased, I think. With how you look now.” My face grew warm, again. But we spoke no more of it.
