Lyra

The woods were quiet, the only sound being the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. I walked along the familiar path to the place where we’d always met. I stop just before, smoothing my hair down and adjusting my top. With a quick swipe of my tongue to wet my lips, I rounded a bend.

There he was, Ryan leaning against a tree. My heart thumped erratically at the way his arms crossed over his chest. I mirrored him, not wanting to give into the desire to touch him. To run ...