"You're making things very difficult for me."
Was he by any chance referring to our staring?
I didn't back down. Neither did he. Yes, he was referring to our staring.
"Why am I making things difficult?"
My heart was beating too fast for me to speak coherently, I wasn't even
ashamed of showing how flushed I was. So let him know, let him.
"Because it would be very wrong."
"Would?" I asked.
Was there a ray of hope, then?
He sat down on the grass, then lay down on his back,
his arms under his head, as he stared at the sky.