Peaches
Impulse falls in love with with a boy that makes him think of summer, on an afternoon filled with laughter and sticky fingers, scraped knees and grins in the golden rays of the setting sun, and stolen peaches tasting all the more sweeter. He falls in love with a boy who’s his best friend, and it should feel so monumental, such an earth changing revelation but it’s not. It should be earth shaking, fireworks and rockets. But it’s not. It’s simply a fact, a part of his world. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and he loves him. It’s as easy as breathing, as natural as the laughter that spills past his lips so effortlessly with him, and he loves him with the quiet realization of it. It’s gentle, a thought that slips into the back of his mind as easily as it appeared. The world keeps turning.
Years down the line, he doesn’t remember that passing thought, on one summer day out of so many like it. He looks at peaches and a fond smile comes to his face- they’re his favorites, though he doesn’t quite know why. He only had them a few times, after all. But the peaches always seemed to taste sweeter with him. So as Zedaph turns to him with a question on his lips, there’s a moments pause and a laugh as they each grab one and continue on their way. The thought of peaches is soon forgotten, swept up in a burst of nostalgia.
And the moment goes by, of thoughts of summer and stolen peaches and sticky fingers, smiles and laughter and a fondness for the fruit years later that he doesn’t remember being part of a realization that was so gentle and easy he didn’t really realize it as he turns to his friend you love him, you’ve loved him for years and it’s so easy, its so natural that you don’t even think of how you love him with every breath, with every smile, with every time you look over and find he’s still there beside you—and cracks a smile at the way he laughs. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes, unmistakable as Zedaph waves his hands, gesturing wildly with juice all over his fingers as they walk, remembering the same summer afternoons as Impulse watches fondly and eats from his own sweet and sticky hand.
Impulse fell in love in summer. And what remains is a smile, the distant memory of a summer afternoon, and the sweetness of peaches on his tongue.