~HAZEL~

As I watch Ashton near the stream, taking care of our clothes, there is plenty on my mind.

I want to tell him that today, when his mouth was on me, something inside me rushed open and has been alive ever since. I want to tell him that the idea of "undoing" this, of going home and pretending none of it happened, feels like dying over and over again.

But I say none of it.

Instead I watch him wring out the dress, watch droplets race down his forearms, watch him lay the fabric ...