emerald.

Ryan blinks up at the sky and he lies on the emerald grass, surrounded with light and comfort and pierced by both the thousands of questions sizzling on my tongue and the sun kissing his pupils, and maybe by the thoughts pounding in his head.

Prologue.
He's really indescribable.
Chapter 1
Per usual my gut beckons after him and tells my mind to follow, approach, kiss, and do anything, so he knows that I exist but my mind thankfully argues.
Chapter 2
Of course, I should leave, should run, before Ryan has the chance to finally call the cops, but then there's a hand on my crouched knee and it's warm and perfect, like it belongs there, and whoa.
Chapter 3
Finally, I decide that maybe I cranked the crowbar a little too hard for now, so I close my eyes and lay back in the emerald grass.