Lilac

She listened to the cricket song mixing with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The two Earth sounds harmonized. She loved the way he seemed to be part of any place he stood in.

She snuggled against the side of his chest and laid her hand in the dark curls. Despite the summer-like day, a chill tiptoed in the May night.

A breeze whispered, and a ribbon of sweet fragrance tickled past her.

"Do you smell that?" she said.

"Yeah. It's nice."

"It's lilac."

"If it's going to get breezy, I'll have to put my clothes back on. I kind of liked the quiet."

"I always thought lilac had a purple smell," she said.

"Like the color of the flowers?"

"They can be white," she said. "Maybe other colors too."

"Oh."

The leaves rustled. He sat and reached for his socks.

"Hey, you're messing up my warm blanket," she said.

"Shouldn't we be going?"

"Not yet. Come on, lay back down. I'm warm."

He tossed the socks aside and buried back under.

The ghostly threads of lilac thinned.

"There used to be a lilac bush under my window," she said, "when I was little. If the wind came just right, it would fill my room."

"Nature's air freshener."

"My mother would cut blossoms for the kitchen. She used to sit on my bed and tell me stories."

"Nice memories."

"That was before I hated her."

He turned.

The air leaned on the trees again. The skin of her face felt cold.

"We should probably--"

"No," she said. "I want to stay a little longer. Close your eyes. I'll tell you a story about the fairy kingdom that spanned the valley around our yard."