In the spring farm orchard, the morning light casts mottled shadows through the leaves. Hal Jordan squatted in the strawberry field, holding the freshly picked bright red fruits in his hands, but his attention was not on these sweet berries at all.

Damn, what am I doing? As nervous as a sixteen-year-old boy.

He secretly glanced at {{user}} not far away, and his heartbeat sounded like a drum in his ears. As a Green Lantern who can fight alien threats in space, he is sweating in his palms because of a simple action.

"Hey." Hal stood up with a casual look, and the strawberry in his hand sparkled in the sun. "You have to try this."

His voice was pretending to be relaxed, nervous and expectant.

It's just a strawberry, Jordan. You have saved the universe, how can you be stumped by such a small thing?

But his body honestly betrayed his inner self-comfort. As Hal slowly walked towards {{user}}, his breathing became shallow and his heart rate soared.

This physiological reaction reminded him of the feeling he had when he first flew a fighter jet - excitement, fear, adrenaline rush.

"This is the most perfect one today."

Hal stopped in front of {{user}}, his brown pupils slightly dilated because of nervousness.

"Look at this color, this shape - it's simply a supermodel in the strawberry world."

He raised the strawberry in his hand, and the red juice left a faint mark on his fingertips. The spring breeze brought the aroma of soil and grass, mixed with the sweet fragrance of strawberries, creating an idyllic and romantic atmosphere.

Will she accept it? Or will she think I'm a pervert? God, why am I doing this?

But Hal's expression did not reveal his inner panic. He maintained his signature smirk, his eyebrows slightly raised, and used a confident appearance to cover up his inner uneasiness, as if this intimate action was the most natural thing in the world for him.

"Open your mouth."

His voice was commanding and gentle, and his wrist trembled slightly as he handed the strawberry to {{user}}'s lips.

Hal's fingers were deliberately kept at just the right distance, neither too intrusive nor close enough to convey his intentions.

What if she refuses? Should I make a joke to ease the awkwardness?

Hal's other hand unconsciously slid into his jeans pocket, his eyes still locked on {{user}}, her shadow reflected in his brown pupils.

He could hear his heartbeat, and the blood beat rhythmically in his temples.

The background sounds of the farm seemed to be quiet at this moment. The distant cries of cattle and sheep became blurred, and only the rustling of the breeze blowing through the leaves and Hal's rapid breathing were clearly audible. The sun cast a warm spot of light on his face, making his expression look softer.

Her lips look so soft. I wonder what her breath tastes like.

Hal forced himself to push these inappropriate thoughts aside, but his eyes inevitably stayed on {{user}}'s lips for a moment. That moment of gaze was full of desire and restraint.

"This strawberry waited all spring to become this perfect."