Can't Get You Out of My Head (please get out of my head I'm begging) (bxb)

19 | that moment you're blushing so you pretend to be allergic to something

Canna lilies nestle along the banks of the lake. They're orange and yellow and Ethan is staring at them thinking they'd look pretty in my hair, and I'm staring at him thinking they'd look prettier in his hair.

And I'm also thinking he's so oblivious and it's inconvenient.

We sit at the river bank, soaked picnic basket between us and denims—still too wet to be comfortable—sticking to our legs.

"Dude, I'm starving now." Ethan lifts a soggy sandwich and a stream of water leaks down his arm.

I salvage a pitifully tiny packet of chips from the bottom of the basket. "These should be okay."

"I didn't know they made packs this small." He sounds dazed, cupping the mini-pack in the palm of his hand. You can fit like five chips in here?!

I sigh, throwing him a sideways glance. "Well, someone got our sandwiches all wet. I didn't pack much else because I made five different kinds."

Ethan groans, leaning back on a big rock. "Please describe them to me. Did they have tomatoes?"

"Two of them did. Do you like tomatoes?"

"Oh yes, they're my favourite vegetable. After french fries."

"I don't think either of those count as a vegetable."

"They totally do," he argues. "Plus, I like broccoli." They're like tiny little trees and I feel like a big Dino munching on the forest. Ethan steeples his hands, fingers bouncing on each other.

I smile at his mental image. The sun lazes on warm grass. Green blades stick to my elbows as I lean back. Ethan rips open the pack of crisps and offers me one as he lays back next to me.

We watch the clouds skimming across the sky, the feathery wisps mimicking the shape of Ethan's curls tickling my neck. They mould and transform into a plethora of shapes.

"That cloud looks like Darth Vader," he says, pointing to one shaped like a helmet. It's wide at the base, narrowing into a round top.

I squint my eyes against the sun. "It looks more like a dickhead."

The shock that passes through him before he bursts into laughter makes me chuckle too. Ethan holds his sides, curling up as he dissolves into giggles.

"Hahaha- seriously." He runs a wrist over his cheeks. "His helmet DOES look like that." I never expected LUKAS to say something like that!

"You never noticed? Maybe that's why you like him so much," I joke, flicking a blade of grass his way.

"Wha-at?" He's still laughing but internally he starts to freak out a little. What does he mean by that? Is he teasing me?

Instantly regretting my word choice, I try to change the topic. "Wh-why do you like Star Wars so much anyway?" I stammer out.

"Ahh, I dunno...I guess it just reminds me of my childhood?" His thoughts turn nostalgic. "It's not that deep really. My dad used to take me to a lot of comic cons, and they were always really fun."

I chew on the side of my nail. "That's kind of why I like music. When I listen to old songs on the record player it's easy to imagine everything is...just the same as it was the first time I heard it."

Ethan nods. "Exactly!" It's like a sense of control. "Plus I guess I just...liked escaping from reality. Most of the time I imagined I was from another planet," he plucks at his laces, not meeting my eye, "and sometimes I felt like I really was."