the difference between a garden
AND A GRAVEYARD
AND A GRAVEYARD
Air seems to be a scarcity in his lungs with the pervasiveness of the cold. That, too, is a new thing. He loves it. It’s like being a newborn but with the awareness of an adult - everything bright and strange and new, ready for the taking. It’s just as possible it’s attributed to his generally mischievous personality as well, but whatever the reason Enzo is up to his armpits in saltwater and having the time of his life.
He isn’t expecting company, but the voice that shouts above the waves and gulls is weirdly familiar. Turning - and stumbling a little as a wave smacks him in the center of his back - one hand lifts to press his curls away from his forehead and gaze back to the shore. There stands a girl, a little bit older but still undeniably a friend. “Paige!” he shouts back, and begins to abandon the freezing water despite how little time he’d spent in it. Jogging in it is a little difficult, but his smile is sunny and his dimples are deep and apparent in his cheeks as he emerges, soaked and unselfconscious. “Maybe I did lose it and was trying to find it in there,” he teases, light eyes crinkling at the corners with the exact same sass and mischief she’d been met with the first time they’d met on the riverbank. Some things never change after all.
He isn’t expecting company, but the voice that shouts above the waves and gulls is weirdly familiar. Turning - and stumbling a little as a wave smacks him in the center of his back - one hand lifts to press his curls away from his forehead and gaze back to the shore. There stands a girl, a little bit older but still undeniably a friend. “Paige!” he shouts back, and begins to abandon the freezing water despite how little time he’d spent in it. Jogging in it is a little difficult, but his smile is sunny and his dimples are deep and apparent in his cheeks as he emerges, soaked and unselfconscious. “Maybe I did lose it and was trying to find it in there,” he teases, light eyes crinkling at the corners with the exact same sass and mischief she’d been met with the first time they’d met on the riverbank. Some things never change after all.
is what you choose to put in the soil
ENZO
