**I haven’t shared a story in a while…Tuesday seems a good day to do that **

(An awesome sugar stealer picture from Flickr)

The wind rustled gently through the field, coaxing the green and yellow grass into a shuffled dance and sweeping thousands of hiding sugar stealers into the air…they fell like snowflakes in the greying sky. Carefully, delicately, they descended towards the ground, towards us. Gracefully one brushed against the tip of my cold nose, featherlight, feather soft, the feel of it electric as my senses found themselves confused by the tender strands daintily connecting with my skin.

“They’re like little parachutists” he whispered, catching the falling seed in cupped hands, rolling it back and forth between his palms before raising a hand towards his face, examining the small white fluff that sat there one final time then exhaling forcibly to send the sugar stealer back into the air.

He watched it flutter, using the breath he had given it to soar higher and higher before beginning to spiral. His hazel eyes alight with inquisitive excitement, the most slightest of smiles producing dimples.

“Parachutists?” I giggled, my gaze not leaving his face, a flicker of amusement reciprocated in the way his smile briefly became a teasing smirk.

“Whyever not?” he remarked, “surely it’s nice to imagine they have something more to give the world than mere seed and beauty?”

“But a parachutist?”

“So you don’t like the idea of sugar stealers as parachutists?” he cocked his head towards me before adding in complete seriousness “are they too flighty for you?”

By now my stomach ached from laughing, I could feel the heat of tears searing at the corners of my eyes. Mal merely observed me with the same curious expression I thought was reserved for sugar stealers only…as though I was something rare, something precious and unique. As though he was savouring the moment, as though it was the only one he would ever experience, in a way I guess that much is true…we will never repeat this moment, we will only have it as a memory. A time in which we were both together, laughing at sugar stealers.

“Where would I be without you?” I heaved the words with a heavy breath as my body attempted to cope with the giggle induced cramps.

“Wherever you would want to be” he murmured as he picked a piece of golden grass from his dark fluffy hair and examined it, his smile now broad enough to reveal his exquisite white teeth…his tongue was flicking at his left canine as his face contorted into a quizzical pose, lost for a moment in the intricacies of the strand.

“And where exactly would that be?” I swiped at the tear slithering down my cheek as the impact of the question hit me…Where exactly would I be without him? There is no where I would want to be without him by my side with all his quirks, foibles and flaws…for each one of them I found endearing (yes at times annoying but for the most part endearing). I would be lost, I would be empty, I would be nothing, that much is certain.

“I have no idea, you tell me….if I wasn’t here what would you become?” He had taken to lying in the grass, swishing his arms and legs around as though creating an angel in the blades of flattening greenery, his slender form accentuated by baggy jeans that hung loosely around his hips and a t-shirt that was now revealing his stomach. I wondered how on earth he wasn’t chilled, I’d thrown on a huge Winter coat and scarf before even contemplating leaving the house.

“I think – ‘what would become of me’ is a rather more apt question” I dragged my eyes from the dark bit of hair just below his belly button that was causing an annoying hike in my body temperature, and looked up at the darkening sky as a distraction.

“Not at all…you are your own person, if I was – hypothetically of course -  snuffed out of existance this very second you would have to carry on, you would still have choices to make, you could do whatever you wanted to do…” Under most other circumstances I would consider such a thing to be an incredibly morbid conversation topic, but uttered in Mal’s alluring Cambridge accent it was difficult to feel mortified. He just appeared genuinely interested by the possibilities.

“But I would still have memories of you wouldn’t I? They wouldn’t be erased the moment you were would they?” I could hear panic in my own voice at the prospect of him ever being erased from my mind, then realised how foolish I must sound “hypothetically of course”.

“If you desired them…yes I guess you would be able to keep them” with this he looked at me, the smile still on his lips, I could feel my body battling against a sigh as my heart melted into molten honey and threatened to scald my chest cavity. The look in his eyes told me he was fully aware of this, and my face flushed with embarrassment.

“And I could be anything I wanted?” I said, lying down beside him, adjusting to the dry grass digging into my legs through my jeggings while my coat provided necessary padding…then turning to face him, holding his gaze.

“Anything at all” he didn’t once look away from me as he tasted each word, slowly spoken as he observed me, waiting for any response that may be elicited.

“In that case….I’d become a parachutist” I smiled.

“Oh good….I’d become a sugar stealer” he smiled.

(Hope you liked today’s story…it’s a bit random I know!)

Loki-Lou

PS – I got a mention across at “The Life and Writings of Sleepy Joe” today regarding a random twitter conversation about interviews….yeah….check it out for an insight into my madness!

Today’s song of the day is:

Scorpions – Wind of change (This is the sort of music I was raised listening to….my dad loves this still!).