Chapter twenty – Berries

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-The following day-

Well, after yesterday, I think today will be a little more positive. After coming home from the graveyard yesterday, Michael decided that he wanted to use his family's remaining ashes as part of a necklace – the pendant containing a small amount of them all. The rest of the ashes that aren't used are going to be scattered at his old home.

At the moment, it is around 3:30pm. Michael and I have been outside in my garden, just relaxing a little to pass the time. It's been nice, to be honest – and it's certainly taken our minds off of real life.

"Hey, Cit?" Michael calls me by my nickname to catch my attention, so I turn my head to look at him, nodding for him to continue speaking, "Uhm ... is this what we'll be doing all afternoon?" he questions.

I shrug, "I don't know. I guess it's up to you on what we do." My eyes look up at the tree's branches; I'm leaning against the trunk, "I don't mind."

"Surely you mind." He frowns in confusion, "Like ... everything we do seems to be my choice – and if it's your choice, you make your decision based on what you think I would want to do. You never seem to decide for yourself, yet it's your house."

"I really don't mind," I assure him, "I'm easy; anything we do is okay to me."

"Okay, you win." He pouts and folds his arms, "So I decide that ... we do whatever you decide. That's my decision; take it or leave it, Miss Espinosa." A smirk rises onto his face at his clever answer, causing me to laugh.

"Oh, well played there, Michael, very well played!" I remark sarcastically, trying to seem serious after my mini outburst of laughter, "Seriously ... you make deciding what to do so difficult!"

"Then you decide what we do for the afternoon. If you make me decide, I will refuse to ... to ... " He tries to think of an ending to his sentence, "I'll refuse to talk to you and I'll refuse to choose forever." He almost laughs, but with a hard bite on his lip, he stops himself.

A sigh of defeat passes my lips, "Fine, you win Michael. How about we go to the fields for a while? Every time we've tried to go so far, we've always ended the trip on a low. Let's make this one happy – third time lucky," I tease.

Michael nods in agreement, "Alright, that sounds fair. Let's go," he says, standing up from the grass, brushing himself down.

He opens my garden gate, allowing me to go out first. After thanking him, he exits my garden himself. Before you say it, my front door is already locked – I did it this morning when we came out into the garden in the first place.

We take the quick walk to the fields, and once we're there, we walk to the top of the hill, sitting down together. From here, we can see everything – the rest of the fields, along with the group of trees that lead to the river – the river where Michael almost attempted suicide. But let's not walk on old tracks.

"It's so beautiful up here," I breathe, taking in the wonderful views. One of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere is the views you get. They're absolutely stunning.

Michael presses his hands against the grass, leaning back slightly on them, "Yeah, I agree," he says. He averts his eyes to mine, just as I turn to look at him, so we end up making eye contact, "It is really beautiful."

Words try to come from my mouth, but somehow no noise accompanies them. Why am I suddenly so speechless? Maybe it's because the sudden eye contact has surprised me, and now I can't ... think straight, I guess.

We've already complimented one another on our eyes before, but now I'm looking at them in more broad daylight, Michael's really do have a unique, enigmatic quality about them. They're ... amazing.

The thing that's getting me right now is, the fact we haven't looked away from one another yet. My eyes won't let me look away from him, and it's sort of alarming. Why can't I rip my gaze away from his? And why isn't he looking away from me?

Finally, sound comes from my mouth, "Uhm ... heh," I start awkwardly, unsure on what to talk about or say, "S-So, uh, the views are really beautiful," I repeat the words I've already spoken, like a complete idiot. The eye contact has really thrown me off guard.

He exhales through his mouth as a laugh, "Yes ... they are." He licks his bottom lip, before lightly touching his nose with his fingers. Then, he finally breaks the eye contact between us by looking away, "That's why I love living here; the view is just breathtaking."

A small, nervous chuckle is heard from me, but I try to remain casual. I can't quite explain what, but something seems different. The only thing that I've felt since we first arrived here is awkward – not a bad kind of awkward, I suppose – more of a ... shy awkwardness. It's really quite strange.

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" My question comes out fast, to fill the silence that previously lingered around us.

He turns his head to look at me, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, yet with a laugh coming from his lips, "Gee, you seem eager to keep the conversation going, dontcha?" he teases, "Anyway, I really did choose something for us to do tomorrow."

My eyes widen in anticipation, "Oh, what did you choose?" I question.

He bites his lip in amusement at my enthusiasm, "Well, I was thinking that we could go somewhere to bring us back to our childhoods a little. Before you say it: no, it's not a roller disco," he snickers, "And it's about a half hour from here – walking."

My eyes shift downwards to think of where he could mean. Where have we both been to in our younger years? Honestly, the roller disco would have been my first guess – but Michael still doesn't have the confidence to go out into public, because he doesn't want to go near other people apart from me, so that's out the question. Where else has he mentioned? I can't think at all.

"Give me a hint," I demand playfully. I think the awkwardness is fading away now, and we're returning back to normal. I give him my best pout, "Pwease give me a hint."

Michael grins at me, before lifting his hand up to my face, and squeezing my left cheek with his fingers, "Aww, who's acting all puppy dog-ish, huh?" he coos. He then clears his throat, "Okay, seriously, I'll give you a hint. Remember that little drawing match we had a few days back?"

I laugh a little, "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, we're going to the place where the thing we drew lived before you were given it."

We drew my special vase from the mantlepiece. Oh! I understand now! We're going to the pottery place that's not too far from here!

"Ooh, I know! I know!" I squeal childishly, "We're going to the pottery place, right? Am I right? I know I'm right!"

He takes the tip of his tongue between his teeth, suppressing laughter, "Yes, it's the pottery place, Cit. You don't mind doing that, do you?" he inquires.

I shake my head frantically, "No, no, of course I don't mind! It'll be fun," I smile, "And that's a really sweet thing to do, Michael; choosing something that we'll both enjoy, and brings us back to our childhoods. That's real cute."

He gives a small, timid-looking closed-mouth smile, before lying back on the grass, "Well, I wanted us to be different. And ... it's also my way of apologising for our argument a couple days back, too. That, and it's my way of thanking you ... for doing everything for me."

My hand swats the air, "Please, Michael, you don't need to apologise, or thank me. Honestly."

"Well I am," he answers, lying his head on his arms, in the classic sunbathing position, "Whether you like it or not, Citria."

"Yes boss," I joke, lying next to him – in a friendly way, I might add, "But seriously ... it's a really sweet gesture. Thank you."

"No worries," he murmurs. He scans the surrounding area, but then focuses on something ahead, "Hey; see over there?" he asks, pointing in front of him, "The berry bush?"

My eyes follow his finger to where it's pointing, "Yeah ... I see it. Why? You want to pick more berries for tonight or something?" I offer.

"Well, kind of." He sits up again, "It would be nice to have some for dessert like we did when I first came to live with you." He bites the inside of his cheek shyly, "But if you don't want to, then that's okay too."

I shake my head, "No, of course we'll do it, if that's what you want Michael." Having decided, I stand myself up, then I look down on Michael as he looks up at me. I offer my hand to him, which he takes, so I haul him up off the ground.

The both of us head over to the berry bush, but my eyes are fixed firmly on the red berries; they're Michael's favourite ones, so I'll be picking those for him.

"So you want me to make another mixed-berry pie with these?" I ask in clarification, starting to pick some of the berries from the bush, "Uh, 'cause I can do that, if you want me to."

He makes a move for the purple berries, starting to collect them in his shirt, the way I did when we picked berries for the first time. A small smile comes to my face at that memory, even if it's just something simple like that.

"Well, I'll help you make it if you want – I really don't mind at all," he answers, placing another small handful of them into his shirt.

"Maybe that would be fun," I reason, "If you want to help, then I think that would be real nice to do."

After placing a few red berries into Michael's little shirt-pouch, I pick about six random berries, keeping a discreet eye on Michael. After a moment of silence, I suddenly throw the berries, which end up hitting his cheek and catching him off guard completely. I start to laugh, but then he drops every single berry we've collected, so then guilt washes over me.

"Michael, I'm sor—"

"Why did you do that? You complete idiot!" he hisses, beginning to pick up the berries.

My apologies keep repeating, so that he can forgive me, but he remains silent and continues picking up the berries. Once he's got a few, he lifts his head and suddenly smirks, "You really thought I was mad at you?" he asks.

A little nod of my head is made clear, "Yes ... "

He frowns, then suddenly throws the berries that are in his hand, making them hit my chest, "Got you!" he taunts.

"You got me good there." I give a small, embarrassed smile.

He then stands up and comes opposite me, "Well ... if I got you, then that just gives me another excuse to make it up to you tomorrow." He bites his lip, before winking at me – which ends up being more like two windscreen wipers colliding on a car window.

We both share a laugh, before bending down to pick up the berries together. Whilst my back is turned on Michael, I feel something hit me, so I turn around to see Michael has a sneaky, mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh, it's on, Jackson!" I laugh, picking up a handful of berries and throwing them all in Michael's direction. Most of them hit him, and he yelps a little, "Got you Michael! Ha!"

I make a move to pick up more berries for ammunition, but before I've got enough, Michael hits my stomach with a few purple berries.

"Citria, I'm the King at food fights. Don't test me, girl!" he chuckles, collecting more berries for himself. I throw some berries at him, hitting his neck, "Gah! Damn, Cit! You're good at this! What experience do you already have in food fights!" He hurls another few berries in my direction, which hit my cheek, neck and shoulder.

After gathering a load of berries, I decide to run up the hill, to see if he can catch me. I'm so used to running in these fields; surely I can get away from him, whilst still hitting him with the berries?

He's a fast runner, though – he's only a matter of meters behind me right now. As I make my way speedily up the hill, I toss a few berries aimlessly over my shoulder, hoping to hit him ... anywhere, really. My assumption is that I managed to get him, because I hear him cry out in surprise, which causes me to laugh.

However, seconds later, I feel a berry hit the back of my neck, so I turn around to see Michael is still running towards me. Perhaps I should run a little quicker now – and that's exactly what I do. Running back down the other side of the hill, Michael is still only meters behind me. I need more berries to throw, so I'll have to go back to the berry bush.

I run to the berry bush, knowing that Michael is still chasing me. It's a surprise that he hasn't caught up to me yet – he normally would have, based off of any other game we've played before. Upon arriving at the bush, my hands pick at the berries quickly, so I can get away from there and continue the fight with Michael.

Unfortunately, before I can finish, Michael catches up to me and throws all the berries he has left at me. They hit my back, my neck, my lower torso, my legs – everywhere. I didn't even think it was possible to hit everywhere at the same time!

"I win!" he cheers, doing a little victory dance.

Finally turning around, a serious expression forms on my face, through my desperate attempts not to laugh. A large breath passes my lips, as I look at him, "Michael!" I gasp, "Y-You've ruined my clothes!" I suddenly burst into laughter, so he does too, stopping his little dance.

He giggles like a little child, "I told you I'm the King of food fighting. Did you believe me? No you didn't!" he jeers, a smirk clearly visible on his face. Soon, we finish laughing, "Whew. Should we just relax a little on the grass now? I'm tired after all that ... success," he suggests, with jokey arrogance.

My mouth forms an amused smile, "Sure, sure. But you realise I'll beat you in something, sooner or later. Just watch out, Jackson, 'cause I'm coming for ya," I threaten playfully, raising my fists like a boxer, giving his arm a friendly punch.

He walks the opposite way, acting along with our fake feud, "Yeah yeah, whatever tickles your peach, Citria." He snickers softly to himself as he walks up the hill, so I follow him up there until we reach the top.

We both sit ourselves down, before our little sightseeing session begins again.

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Chapter twenty! I'm finding their friendship beautiful and adorable to be honest. That isn't me being big-headed about my story, though! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!