“Wow, look at that tree!” Your face lights up like a child on Christmas day. The oak tree stands tall and proud in the little park where you can see children walking with their parents, people walking their dogs, couples on picnics. The tree is a rainbow of colors as fall slowly sets in; reds, oranges, yellows and aching of green left. A multi-colored spectacle of light dancing through the branches. “It’s so pretty.”

“Hm? Wow.” You hear Colt from beside you in the drivers seat. He glanced up from his phone to look at said tree, but you have a sinking feeling in your gut. He’s going to look right back down at his phone, pretend to be interested for a moment. You’re expecting it- his disinterest in something you find beautiful and pure and lovely. He’ll look back down at his phone any moment now, just like every other partner you’ve been with. You look back out the window. It’s a long red light.

“That’s so fucking pretty,” His voice rings out again and your head snaps to look at him. He’s still staring at the tree. The light turns green and he’s still staring at the tree, smiling faintly, a glimmer in his eyes. Phone no where in sight. “Maybe we can go for a walk later and get a close look, huh, honey?”

You’re baffled. That he cares; that he’s still talking; that he still doesn’t drive even as people honk at him; that he wants to go for a walk to look at the tree. It’s a tree, you think. Why would he care? Then again, why do you care?

Every person you had ever gone out with has been the same. Their phones were more important, or they always some sly comment about having sex, which never failed to dampen your mood. Why did they all expect more from you?

But Colt never expected more. He accepted, but never expected. Never demanded it. It gave you whiplash- to be desired for more than your body.

“Yeah,” You manage to get out. His eyes flicker to you, warming even more. Your chest tightens.

He leans over and pecks your cheek before driving again, squeezing your thigh. “Pretty… but not as pretty as you.”