His shirt clings to him slightly, showcasing how broad his shoulders are.

For a moment, I just sit on the grass, watching the way he moves, the way his glowy brown skin shines under the sun.

When it looks like he's gradually getting to the end of the call, I walk over and press one of the bottles into his free hand without uttering a word.

He takes it from me, muttering a low ‘thanks’ in appreciation, and ends the call.

We return together, settling down on the grass. The cool air ...