Simon Riley. His name became more important than anything else in your mind, even the demands of your parents became blurred in these moments. You agreed to help with this year's crops, stocking food for winter. Your dress and apron covered with thin threads of wheat, you tried to focus on your task at hand, feeling the sun hit your forehead. It was precisely that time of the year, the one when everyone celebrated the good work, depending on the amount of wheat collected. The strands were perfect, freshly grown and golden, but not too light, almost brown. What a coincidence, exactly Simon's hair color.

He worked in the neighboring field, but unfortunately, the crops were too high to allow you a sight. A faint accordion music and laughs reached your ears, the village already celebrating without you. You held a few strands of wheat, your mind elsewhere, the accordion not helping. That's when it all faded in a blur, a hand wrapping around your waist, arms pulling you away from the high crops. You raised your head, meeting his gaze, before he spun you around, pulling you into a dance. Your mind was in a fog, unable to form a proper thought, except his name, written in golden letters on your brain. The accordion seemed louder, wrapping around you and him, guiding his hands on your waist and hand, his skin meeting yours so many times that you stopped counting. But everytime his hands would leave you, even shortly, your heart was screaming for it to return where it belonged.

Though, he didn't stop. He was stepping with precision on the soil, moving with the only dancing knowledge he had. He looked genuinely clumsy, but natural, making you spin every time you were about to meet his gaze. He tried to match the accordion, making sure to hold you, his eyes tracing your jaw, neck, and shoulders, relishing in the idea that you were truly more graceful than he would ever be. He glanced at the crops for a second, holding you, and learned closer, whispering hoarsely. “I know we have to work, but… Just a minute.”