The song that drifts to them from the car stereo is light and breezy and, frankly, a little ridiculous. But then, Lisa thinks, the whole night has been surreal, so she's just going to go with it. When the singer reaches the chorus and starts in about lime and coconuts, she gives in to the music and dances along to the beat, inconsistent though it is.

She's doesn't know where they are, but she knows that she's far too drunk to go anywhere else. Her limbs are heavy and out of control and everything Jennie says is far too funny. Jennie twirls past her, arms up in the air and a happy smile on her face.

They started at dinner in the city. No, it's not really a city. Lisa has been to actual cities. Not Seoul or Busan, but she's been toSuwon and nobody who has ever been to Suwon questions whether it's large enough to be a city or if it's really just a big town. So, Lisa amends her thoughts, they started at dinner in town, and somewhere along the line, after the entrée, but while the stain of fresh strawberry juice was new on their fingers, Jennie convinced her to go for a drive.

Jennie convinces her to do a lot of things. She laughs and looks knowingly into Lisa's eyes, as if she's aware of so much more, and Lisa is left with no choice. If she doesn't agree, she'll be left behind.

And she hates to be left behind.

When Jennie invited her to dinner, she was surprisingly formal about it. Then, she insisted on paying for the meal saying, "I asked you, silly." Lisa thinks it might be a date, but Jennie hasn't tried to hold her hand or kiss her or anything else distinctly date-like, so she isn't really sure.

Instead of asking, she lets the question burn in , muting the sweetness of their shared dessert. She can't remember the appetizer or the main course, and knows that she should. But as soon as the tray of strawberries--stems and leaves still attached--with fresh whipped cream and dipping chocolate arrived, Lisa was helpless to do anything but watch. She smiled, too, she knows. Probably that too-big, bordering on goofy smile that makes her look like a cartoon character. She'd like to be graceful--beguiling, even--but it's impossible when she's so damn happy.

Jennie offered her the first berry and, of course, she'd shaken her head, big gummy smile front and center, as she said, "No, you eat it."

She didn't know what she meant to happen next, but she imagines it was something along the lines of Jennie smiling and then eating the berry. Except she didn't do that at all. Instead, Jennie dipped it lightly in the cream, covering just the barest tip, and held it to Lisa's mouth.

She'd felt the cream whisper against her lips, but she couldn't move. She'd never had anyone, especially someone she liked as much as she likes Jennie, hand-feed her anything. Her brain chose that exact moment to stutter to a stop like an old car on the side of the road and all she was able to do was stare.

Jennie's mouth had lifted slightly, but only on one side, in a perfect, y half-smile, and she said, "Come on. You'll like it. I promise." And still Lisa had stared. She sat there, mute and immobile, frozen by what the gesture might mean, long enough for Jennie's confidence to falter. Her smile dropped and she started to pull her hand away. That movement, the loss of sensation against her lips awoke Lisa with a start. She lurched forward, mouth gaping open, and chomped the berry. engulfed most of the berry and her lips brushed against Jennie's fingers.

When she had pulled back, cheeks flushing madly, Jennie smiled again, but all Lisa could do was swallow roughly and then tuck her face into her napkin.

"You're pretty when you blush."

After that, they had eaten the remaining berries in the normal way, feeding themselves instead of Jennie feeding her. Lisa tried to use her fork because it seemed like the proper thing to do in a place like that, but the berry shimmied and rolled under the pressure and the tines of her fork clanked loudly against the plate. After that, she used her fingers and that made Jennie smile so she decided that must be the right way to eat strawberries, even in fancy restaurants.

After dinner, Jennie had smiled almost shyly and asked if she wanted to go for a drive. The way she said the words, almost teasing, yet almost insecure, left Lisa winded and stammering. She wasn't sure what the right answer was, but she knew she didn't want the night end.

Her lack of certainty hadn't stopped her from climbing into the passenger seat of Jennie's car, still far too sober for the things she was contemplating, and smiling agreeably when Jennie turned left to take them out of town instead of right to take them back to Lisa's apartment.

"Lisa," Jennie sing-songs at her when the music on the stereo switches to a new, slower song that Lisa almost recognizes. "Where did you go?"

She likes the way Jennie says her name, as if each letter counts. When she'd finished school, she immediately started teaching and, before she even realized it had happened, she'd become Ms. Manoban. She went from being a single name to a formal title and in the process became old overnight. 

Every once in a while, a student, or a parent, would stutter over the title, calling her missus instead of miss. It made her flinch every time because she wasn't ready to give up any more of her youth.

She imagines that if Jennie were to call her missus, she wouldn't mind that at all.

"I was just thinking about dinner."

She swears she's only had a few drinks from the bottle and has no business feeling this swirly and disoriented and light, but still she leans against the front of the car and presses the back of her hand to her forehead. Her skin is hot.

"Are you okay?" Jennie is suddenly right in front of her, her eyes full of concern and close enough to kiss. Lisa stares at her lips and tries to remember what Jennieasked.

"Lisa," Jennie says her name softer now, runs a finger along the edge of her face and then tucks a strand of hair behind Lisa's ear. "Are you okay?"

Jennie's cat eyes are this perfect brown that makes Lisa think of  cold water on the back of on a hot day and she can't stop looking into them. Even if she wanted to, which she doesn't, there's no way she could look away now, not with Jennie so close. She smiles and she's sure she looks stupid doing it, but she can't stop that, either. Jennie is looking at her like she's waiting for something, so she nods her head because that's always a good answer when she doesn't know the question.

She shouldn't be this drunk, but there's no other explanation for how disoriented she feels at that moment.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Then dance with me."

Jennie holds out her hand and looks at her, uncertain, as though Jennie is afraid, somehow, that she'll say no. It's almost as if she thinks Lisa has control over herself when Jennie is around, as if she doesn't understand that Lisa is helpless to do anything but take her hand and sway with her in the middle of this...field.

She raises her head from Jennie's shoulder and looks around. She really should have some idea where they are, but she doesn't. Not that it matters. They are both far too drunk on the bottle of wine Jennie mysteriously pulled from behind her seat. They won't be leaving any time soon.

Mostly, she just sees darkness. Sure, the car is running and the headlights are on, but they don't point everywhere. All she knows for sure is that she's dancing with Jennie in tall grass that tickles her legs as she moves. And there are trees at the edge of the light. Symmetrical trees. Uniform. All lined up in perfect, uniform rows, all the same size and shape. An orchard, maybe.

"This is nice." Jennie hums more than speaks and her lips are pressed up against Lisa's hair, just above her ear, and she feels the words all the way down into her stomach.

"Mmm." Lisa wants to pull her closer, turn her head until Jennie's lips are pressing against her own and see if she still tastes of strawberries. The flavor of dessert was buried beneath the tannins of red wine with her first swig from that bottle, but she thinks maybe she can still taste the touch of her lips against Jennie's finger. At least she wants to.

Instead of kissing Jennie like she wants, she hums her agreement and keeps right on dancing.

Except what they are doing hardly counts as dancing. She took too many years of lessons to mistake this drunken, almost swaying motion as actual dancing. Still, she decides she likes it better.

The song changes again, this time to something fast, upbeat, and Lisa curses in her head. She's not ready to let go of Jennie and she's sure that's what comes next.

She's shocked to the point of holding her breath when Jennie snugs in closer and tightens her grip on Lisa's waist.

Jennie's fingers are spread wide and Lisa can feel each one of them burning hot against her flesh even though there is a layer of thin fabric separating her from Jennie. She should have worn more clothes. Or fewer. She can't decide in her semi-foggy, yet hyper-aware state which would be better.

Jennie squeezes one more time, then steps back, releasing her completely. "Thanks for coming to dinner."

Lisa smiles at her, shuffles awkwardly as she wrings her fingers together behind her back to keep herself from wrapping them into the fabric of Jennie's shirt. 

Finally she looks away and says, "You're welcome." It isn't the best answer, she knows. She should say that she's having fun. Or she should thank Jennie for inviting her. Suddenly she doesn't feel drunk at all.

The night air prickles against her skin and it registers for the first time just how dark it really is. But the wine bottle is lying on the ground next to the car and, the way it's tipped, she knows if it wasn't empty when it landed there, it is now. She stares at the bottle to keep from looking at Jennie. She knows if she does, she'll ask her to dance again and she's far too sober for that.

Jennie must follow her line of sight because she laughs dryly and says, "It's empty."

"Yeah."

She looks at Jennie out of the corner of her eye because she can't not look at her any longer, but she's not ready to give in to full eye contact yet.

Jennie smiles a little too big and claps her hands together. "I have another bottle." 

Somehow Jennie pulls a second bottle from behind the seat and opens it before Lisa can tell her that she shouldn't. When Jennie presses the bottle into her hands, because she didn't bring glasses, Lisa tips it to without really thinking about it. 

She gulps down one mouthful followed quickly by another, knowing that the floaty, happy feeling will return with it, but not sure that she wants it.

"Thanks." She passes the bottle reluctantly and wishes that the commercial on the radio would end because she liked it when Jennie asked her to dance.

"Tell me something." Jennie leans against the hood of the car, the bottle of wine cradled loosely in her arms. Her pupils are blown wide and Lisa wants to think it's because of her, but it's probably the combination of wine and moonlight.

Lisa feels her face flush with heat and hopes that Jennie can't tell. Or if she can, that she thinks it's the wine and not embarrassment at being hit with such a commonplace, yet overly demanding request as "tell me something."

"Like what?"

Lisa shuffles her feet again, then gives in to the urge to take the bottle from Jennie.

She may brush her hands against Jennie's arm accidentally, but it's quick and unintentional and she can't really tell if it happened at all. She takes a deep drink, gulping greedily from the bottle even though she knows she shouldn't. She has to work tomorrow and second-graders are anything but quiet at eight in the morning.

Jennie smiles and it's far too charming as she leans over and rescues the bottle. Lisa notes that it's much lighter now than it was when she got it.

"Something simple, like your favorite color."

She thinks of the strawberries and the way Jennie closed her eyes when she bit down, her expression open and bordering on luxurious as she moaned about how good they were. Before she realizes what she's saying, she answers, "Red," even though her favorite color until tonight has always been purple. She doesn't ask Jennie's because she already knows that it's yellow, like the sun. She imagines what Jennie would look like if they came back to this place during the day and suddenly she wants nothing more than to see Jennie dancing in the tall grass with the sun in her hair.

Jennie edges closer. "Yeah? That might be mine, too." She sips the wine. "Favorite movie?"

Lisa feels light-headed, her face hot and flushed and Jennie is standing far too close for her to think. She shakes her head and finds the motion very unsettling. Her brain keeps shaking even after her head stops, and she shakes it again to see if she can counteract the feeling. It doesn't work.

"I have no idea. What's yours?"

Jennie stares at her lips as she chews on her own. "Mmm. This one." The answer makes no sense, but then Jennie's flush up against her with the wine bottle between then and the fingers of one hand threading through Lisa's hair, pulling her into a kiss.

Lisa tries to respond, but it's swallowed into Jennie's mouth and all she can hear in her own ears is a muffled "Ummph." Strangely, or maybe not, it feels like exactly the right response.

Jennie keeps the kiss short, pulling away just as Lisa wakes up and realizes that she's not actually participating. She reaches for Jennie's arm as Jennie's lips leave hers and she wants to chase after her lips and draw her back in, but figures she shouldn't since Jennie was the one to start it. Doesn't that mean she gets to stop it, too? She can't remember the rules, and she's not sure if she ever knew them.

The kiss clouds her mind even further. She wants to think about what it means that Jennie said her favorite color is red when she knows that's not right. But maybe it is and maybe she's wrong. Maybe Jennie doesn't have yellow wildflowers tattooed on her shoulder because they make her feel lighter somehow. Jennie told her that once, she thinks, but the memory is jumbled and red really is a nice color.

The wine bottle, half empty now even thought Lisa doesn't remember either of them drinking that much, is warm beneath her fingers as she takes it from Jennie and brings it to . She's not really thirsty, but she has to do something with her hands to keep from gripping Jennie bruisingly tight and pulling her into another kiss.

"Was that okay?" Jennie shifts, her feet moving like she planned to back away, yet her body stays close enough for Lisa to feel the words against her face. 

She nods and that feels much better than when she shook her head a few moments ago. "Definitely."

"Good."

They're awkwardly silent for a while, trading sips from the bottle and watching each other from the corners of their eyes. Lisa realizes she has no idea, even after having kissed, whether Jennie still tastes of strawberries. She feels foolish for having wasted the opportunity.

Maybe Jennie realizes what Lisa always knew, that she's not one of the y girls who eats fruit from her date's fingers or dances spontaneously under the stars. She glances at Jennie's hands, tries to see the tips of her fingers, but they are tucked under her arms. 

She thinks about asking if the berries stained her fingers red, but knows the question will just make things more awkward and really she just wants to see the evidence for herself, not talk about it. She glances at her own fingers, but without moving in front of the headlights, it's impossible to tell anyway. She wishes she'd been brave enough to feed Jennie a strawberry. Maybe next time. If there is a next time.

"What's over there?" Lisa asks about the trees because she needs something to fill the silence. She wants to go back to dancing and laughing and feeling the grass against her legs, but they've gone through three songs--she counted--on the stereo and Jennie hasn't asked her to dance again.

Jennie glances over her shoulder and shrugs. "Orchard."

"Orchard? Like fruit?" Lisa almost feels her nose scrunch up, but it's muted and tingly, so she's not sure if she's really doing it or just thinking about doing it. She's seen orchards before, of course, but only from behind the windshield of a car. It feels strange to be this close to actual growing food.

Jennie smiles again--it involves both sides of this time--and extends a hand. "Yeah, come on."

Lisa takes her hand and she doesn't realize she's still holding the bottle, mostly empty, until they're halfway to the trees and it's too late to leave it behind. She trips along behind Jennie and feels stretched out with the motion. Jennie pulls her by one arm, drawing her into a sideways line with the other hand flapping out behind her, wine sloshing noisily inside the bottle, but never spilling.

When they reach the fence separating the trees from the open field, she collapses against Jennie in a fit of giggles. She can't catch her breath and it feels so good to breathe in the night air and laugh away the tension their kiss had left in her shoulders.

Jennie makes an exaggerated shushing sound, with her finger to her lips as if they are in a commercial about a library, or maybe an actual library, but definitely not in the middle of nowhere. She grabs hold of Jennie's finger, pulling her hand down and laughing so close to Jennie's mouth that Jennie can probably feel it in , but it doesn't matter because Jennie is laughing just as hard and collapsing against her.

Before the laughter dies away completely, she takes another drink of wine and hands the bottle to Jennie. It's almost gone and she doesn't want to spill it on the ground like the last bottle. That's what happened to it, right? They didn't actually drink one--no two bottles of wine. She's happy and fuzzy and everything around her seems to just float, so she decides she doesn't care if it was one or two bottles of wine, or if they drank them, or poured them down a well.

Jennie swirls the bottle and the tiny bit left in the bottom sloshes quietly before sliding down to rest in the bottom. She hands it to her with a smile that's a little too soft and loose at the edges, but her eyes are lidded and dark and Lisa want to kiss her again more than just about anything.

"Bottoms up. Don't let it go to waste."

Lisa tips the bottle back and lets the rest of the liquid fill . It's not what she wants to be doing, but it tastes good and she likes the way the wine feels as it slides down the back of . When it's empty, she sets the bottle in the grass at her feet and promises herself that she'll pick it up when they head back. She wipes on the back of her hand.

"Why are we here?" She looks around. It's harder to see this far from the light and she can't remember what they are doing.

Jennie smiles and nods. "Because you said yes."

That doesn't make any sense so she rewinds the conversation in her mind--as much as she can with wine-muddled thoughts--but she can't follow the thread and almost forgets what she was trying to figure out in the first place. She shakes her head.

"What?"

"I asked and you said yes, and that's why we're here."

Lisa shakes her head again. "No. I mean right here. In this spot." She points to the ground as if that will somehow help clarify.

"Oh." Jennie looks around as if she's seeing their surroundings for the first time.

Then she points at the trees. "Orchard, remember?"

Jennie's halfway over the fence before Lisa registers that she's moving. Just below Jennie's foot is a sign declaring the orchard private property and outlining the penalties for anyone caught on the wrong side of the fence. She can just see it in the dim headlights and thinks maybe Jennie missed it. Lisa points at the sign and starts to call Jennie back, but then Jennie trips on the top rail and tumbles to the ground. Lisa hurries over, stumbling as she goes because she's laughing too hard to run, but too concerned to not move at all.

"Jesus, are you okay?"

Jennie makes a muffled sound that Lisa can't understand, and she needs to get over the fence to check on her. She's wearing this long flowing skirt that flared out nicely when they were dancing, but will only trip her up if she tries to climb, so she flails her arms helplessly a couple of times, then sets about tying the skirt together between her legs.

Jennie is up and smiling and laughing before Lisa can quite figure out how to control her skirt and she's so relieved that she almost starts crying as she laughs with Jennie.

"You scared me," Lisa says. She stands at the fence, hands on the top rail and watches as Jennie picks a fruit from the nearest tree--an act worthy of a $5000 fine if she's caught--then makes her way back over. Jennie keeps her eyes on her feet as she high steps through the undergrowth. She's breathing harder than usual, but smiling bigger than she has all night as she presents the fruit to Lisa.

"For you." Jennie holds out the peach in one hand, but rests her other one lightly on top of Lisa's where it sits on the top rail of the fence, brushing her thumb back and forth absently.

"A peach." Lisa takes it, but she's not sure what to do with it. She's never had a peach straight from the tree before and wonders if it has to go through some sort of process, like milk has to be pasteurized, before she can safely eat it.

"Yes! A peach. Eat it." Jennie sounds far too happy and speaks in exclamation points that make Lisa want to shush her. She doesn't because the last time they did that, they couldn't stop laughing and this moment feels far too serious for that.

Lisa evaluates the peach. She's only ever had peaches from a can and doesn't know what to make of it. The skin is fuzzy and feels oddly soft and firm at the same time. How exactly does Jennie expect her to eat it? Does she just bite into it and hope for the best?

"How?"

Jennie laughs, but it isn't the same hysterical, out of control laughter that they shared before. It's soft and sweet and thoroughly charming. She takes the peach back and holds it to her own mouth.

"Like this," she says just before she crunches down, her teeth piercing the soft skin.

Peach juice drips down Jennie's chin and reflects the light of the moon. Lisa wipes it away with her thumb without even thinking. She still can't see if the juice stains her skin or not, but she can smell the sweetness of the fruit and she wants to taste it. She feels silly for not taking a bite when Jennie gave her the chance.

Lisa brings her thumb to and . It's unlike anything she's ever tasted. She her thumb with a happy "mmm" noise and immediately wants more.

Jennie offers it to her again. There's a line of juice dripping down the front of the peach and drabbles of it coats Jennie's fingers.

"You want?" Jennie's voice is deeper than a moment ago, and the smile is deadly serious as she stares hard at Lisa, watching as she opens to take a bite without actually taking the fruit into her own hand.

Jennie holds perfectly still as Lisa takes a bite of her own. The burst of flavor with the flesh of the fruit is even more powerful than the juice and she takes another bite as soon as she can. She means to keep her eyes focused on Jennie, to hold on to the intense connection that popped up unexpectedly as Jennie fed her fruit from her fingers for a second time that night. As soon as touches the peach, her eyes close without her permission and she finds herself indecently.

"God." Jennie's tattered, stilted, barely audible exclamation stops her from taking yet another bite.

When she opens her eyes, she sees Jennie, eyes so dark she almost can't remember what color they are. Jennie looks stricken, as if she's just managing to hold herself back and Lisa has no idea what it means.

"Say you'll go out with me again."

Lisa smiles and forgets about the peach completely as she answers, "Yes, of course." She's not convinced either of them will remember the invitation tomorrow, when they're sober again, but that doesn't seem to matter.

"Good." Jenniedrops the peach and wipes her hand on her pants. Lisa watches and thinks about the juice away with her tongue, but it's a first date and they've barely kissed and no matter how good the peach is, she just isn't that kind of girl.

"When?" She wants to know when they'll go out again, because on their second, or third, or maybe their fourth--she doesn't really know the rules for these things, either--she won't have to stop herself when she wants to something from Jennie's fingers.

Jennie climbs over the fence, clearing the top easily this time, and takes Lisa's hand in hers. She holds it lightly as they walk back to the car.

"When do you want?"

They get into the car because the air is suddenly too cold. She doesn't know if that's because the wine is fading from her system or if the weather changes drastically at a certain time of night. She's never been in a field, or an orchard, after dark.

"Now," Lisa answers without thinking. Now won't work because now is their first date. It can't be their second date, too.

"Perfect." Jennie pulls their combined hands into her lap with a laugh. "How about tomorrow night, too?"

And that really is perfect. Lisa smiles and thinks about how yellow-orange--the shade of a peach picked fresh from the tree--might be her new favorite color. She doesn't force the thought to coalesce beyond that point, however, content to sit in the warm car with the taste of fresh peaches and red wine on her lips.

Tomorrow, on their next date, maybe she'd discover yet another new favorite

color.

...

 

A/N: Honestly. this was hands down one of my fav. shorts;  this was so much fun to write  <333

Hope you guys liked it.

thanks for reading <3

xoxo