we lay on a blanket underneath the stars in a practice soccer field near the high school. It had just rained, and we were sensitive to the wet seeping through the layers we had put underneath the blanket.
"Is that the little dipper?"
"I can never tell. i'm terrible at constellations. i never saw the point in them." i was just disgruntled because i have never had any skill in locating those starlight pictures.
"i'm pretty sure that's the little dipper."
We fell silent because, after all, there's only so much filler conversation on constellations that one can attempt. Strangely, the silence felt more comfortable.
As we lay side by side, yet seperate on the blanket, his hand brushed mine.
clasped.
held.
i smiled in the darkness, and continued staring up at the sky.
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