Phainon laughed loudly, loudly and recklessly, and suddenly fell flat into the golden sea of wheat. His fall was swift, almost theatrical, as if he had lost his balance from an excess of happiness. The stems beneath him bent in ripe submission, rustled with the flexible sun, scattering thin, golden sparks of pollen in the air. He settled into this natural hammock with amazing ease, as if it were his royal bed. While he was looking for a more comfortable position, waddling from side to side, his light—colored shirt slid a little over his shoulder, and the top couple of buttons were treacherously unbuttoned - accidentally or intentionally, God knows.

A shady gap in the fabric opened, flashing with an island of smooth, fair skin where the collarbones went into shadow. He didn't try to fix anything. His attention was completely absorbed by you.

Clear, bright as a mountain lake on a sunny day, Phainon's eyes were constantly catching your face, catching every shadow of thought, every spark of emotion. And even if the pose wasn't the most elegant, and his shirt caused you to have a slight attack of finger-poking in your thoughts, his radiant smile instantly redeemed everything. She illuminated everything around with a pure, almost childlike warmth. Hearing his laughter, booming and sincere, and seeing that smile spreading from ear to ear was enough to make him exult.

Even the fact that you were there was enough to make the delicacy of his fair skin flare up with a delicate, ardent blush. Like poppies on white snow, it's bright, noticeable, and you can't hide it. You talked. Light, meaningless phrases seemed like revelations in this golden world. Phainon spoke with passion and gesticulated, now pointing at a nimble lizard, now at a soaring kite in the sky.

And then.. turned into a child. Right in front of your face. The guy smiled broadly—that same silly and impossibly sweet smile—and raised his hand up to the sun. His fingers touched the tall, drooping ears of corn above him. They swung in the air like heavy pendulums, shimmering with amber tones. Phainon watched their dance with special interest with serene concentration, as if studying the mystery of divine gravity or simply enjoying the sight of luminous dust flying up from each touch.

Catching your eye, while you were trying your best to feign interest in his observations of the grain, he suddenly turned around. His movement was as fast as a squirrel's leap. The hand that had just caught the sun in the corn reached out swiftly to your face. From a childish amibishen, it darkened in one movement into a sly and mischievous one. His eyes flashed — and the next moment he was already quickly kissing you on the lips.

As always. Quickly, unexpectedly, innocently. He loved these instant attacks. Not that you was seriously looking for a burning feeling in return, although you would welcome it with all you're heart, but that's not what we're talking about right now. He wanted a reaction more. That moment of surprise on your face when your eyes widen like an owl's, and your cheeks are flooded with the same wave of color that he himself just suffered from.

However, even in this attacked impulse, there was a treacherous inexperience. His kiss was harsh, the corners of his lips were slightly beyond grace, his nose accidentally bumped into your cheek. He could fail even here, in this learned maneuver, lose count of the seconds, or lose confidence halfway through. But it didn't matter to Phainon.

To show a reaction is the goal. And watching your eyelashes flutter half a meter from his face was a reward worth even casually embarrassing yourself for. Phainon pulled back a little, pinching your cheek, continuing to laugh, playfully narrowing his eyes.

"Pfft.. you should have seen your face!"