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The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, turning the open field gold.
Tall grass swayed around them in slow waves whenever the wind passed through, and the clouds above moved lazily like they had nowhere else to be. It was quiet out there far enough from town that the sounds of people couldn’t reach them. Just birds in the distance, rustling grass, and the soft sound of breathing.
Katie lay on her back in the middle of it all, arms folded behind her head, staring up at the sky.
Beside her, Ewroon was propped on one elbow, looking at her instead of the clouds.
One of his hands moved absentmindedly through her hair, fingers brushing gently along her scalp, smoothing through strands, then starting over again. It was repetitive and soft and strangely calming.
Katie pretended not to notice how much she liked it.
“You’ve been quiet for ten whole minutes,” Ewroon said. “Should I be worried?”
Katie snorted. “You wish.”
“I do not wish.”
“You love when I’m quiet.”
“I love when you’re paying attention to me.”
She turned her head and gave him a look. “That sounded dramatic.”
“It was honest.”
“That’s worse.”
He smirked and kept playing with her hair.
They had always been intense with each other.
Too intense, probably.
Both stubborn. Both jealous. Both far too quick to get irritated when the other person gave attention somewhere else. They could bicker for hours over nothing and then act like none of it mattered five minutes later.
But lately, they’d been trying to do better.
Less controlling. Less trying to “win.” More listening.
Neither of them would ever admit it out loud, but they both knew this mattered too much to keep ruining.
Katie let out a long sigh.
Ewroon noticed immediately.
“There it is,” he said quietly.
“There what is?”
“The real reason you dragged me into a field.”
“I did not drag you.”
“You texted me, quote, ‘come here now.’”
“That’s called inviting.”
“That’s called a command.”
She rolled her eyes. “You came.”
“Obviously.”
His fingers slipped through her hair again, slower this time.
Then he asked, softer, “What’s wrong?”
Katie’s expression changed.
The usual sharpness she carried like armor faded a little.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Wow. Comforting.”
“I’m serious.”
She swallowed.
The wind moved across the field again, lifting strands of grass around them.
Katie stared upward so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“I just…” She paused. “Sometimes I feel like nobody actually likes me.”
Ewroon’s hand stilled.
She laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“I know that sounds dumb.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does.”
“It doesn’t.”
Katie pressed her lips together.
“At all of my businesses, people are always messing with me. Or talking about me. Or pretending to joke when they’re clearly trying to be mean.” She picked at a blade of grass beside her. “Even when people are nice, it feels fake.”
Ewroon stayed quiet, letting her talk.
“And I know I can be difficult,” she continued. “I know I get defensive and mean sometimes. But it feels like people already decided who I am before they know me.”
She finally turned her head and looked at him.
“And I’m tired.”
Something in Ewroon’s face softened immediately.
He shifted closer, lying beside her fully now.
“Kate.”
She hated how gentle her name sounded when he said it like that.
“What?”
“You don’t have to earn being liked.”
She blinked.
He brushed hair back from her forehead.
“You don’t have to be easier, quieter, nicer every second, funnier, prettier, less emotional, more whatever people want.” His jaw tightened slightly. “People can be shallow and cruel. That says more about them than you.”
Katie looked away quickly.
“That’s cheesy.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s still cheesy.”
“Then deal with it.”
She tried not to smile.
He noticed anyway.
“There you are,” he murmured.
Katie’s voice came out quieter this time.
“You really don’t think I’m too much?”
He frowned like the question offended him.
“I think you’re loud, stubborn, annoying, dramatic, impossible, nosy, reckless—”
She shoved his shoulder.
He caught her wrist and continued without missing a beat.
“—and one of the best people I know.”
Katie stilled.
Ewroon let go of her wrist and instead took her hand properly, threading their fingers together.
“I think when people don’t understand you, they call you too much because it’s easier than admitting they never tried.”
The field seemed even quieter somehow.
Katie stared at their joined hands.
Then, very quietly, she said, “You always know what to say.”
“No,” he said. “I just pay attention to you.”
That nearly undid her.
So instead of answering, she rolled onto her side and buried her face in his shoulder.
He laughed softly.
“Are you crying on me?”
“No.”
“You sound suspiciously emotional.”
“I’m about to hit you.”
He wrapped an arm around her anyway.
For a while they stayed like that in the grass, holding onto each other while the wind moved around them.
Eventually Katie lifted her head.
“You know,” she said, “you’re kind of nice sometimes.”
“Don’t spread that around.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Then, because honesty had already started something, he said, “Can I tell you something too?”
Katie narrowed her eyes. “Depends.”
“I hate when other people make you feel small.”
Her expression softened.
“I hate when they get your attention by being cruel. I hate when you come to me already hurt because somebody else couldn’t act right.”
His voice was steady, but there was real feeling underneath it. Even though Ewroon sort of did the same thing, it was different with him and Katie. And Katie knew that.
“And I hate how protective I get.”
Katie studied him.
“You mean jealous.”
“I mean protective.”
“You mean jealous.”
He sighed. “Fine. Sometimes jealous.”
“Sometimes?”
“Don’t push it.”
She smiled.
Ewroon looked down at their hands.
“I know I can be too intense too,” he admitted. “Sometimes I act like if I care about you enough, then nothing bad can touch you.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“And unhealthy.”
“I know that too.”
Katie squeezed his hand.
“We’re working on it.”
He looked back at her.
“We are.”
But they both knew they loved the relationship they had. She moved closer until their foreheads touched.
“You don’t own me, you know.”
“I know.”
“But?”
“But I’d still prefer exclusive emotional access.”
She burst out laughing.
“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said.”
“It means I like being your person.”
Her laughter softened into something warmer.
“You are my person.”
The words surprised both of them.
Ewroon went still.
Katie realized what she’d said and instantly tried to pull back.
“I mean—not like in a weird way—I just meant—”
He caught the side of her face gently.
“Katie.”
She stopped rambling.
Then he kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed.
Just warm and certain and long enough to make the whole world seem to narrow down to sunlight, wind, and him.
When they separated, she stared at him.
“You interrupted me.”
“You were spiraling.”
“I was explaining.”
“You were making it worse.”
She leaned in and kissed him again to shut him up.
That one made him laugh against her mouth.
Soon the laughter faded.
The kiss deepened not explicit, just intense in the way two people can be when they’ve spent too long holding back things they should’ve said sooner.
Months of tension. Teasing. Half-confessions. Jealousy they were learning to name. Care they’d hidden under arguments.
All of it poured into that moment.
Katie’s fingers curled into the front of his hoodie.
Ewroon’s hand slid to the back of her head, still gentle, still careful.
When they broke apart, both were breathless.
She looked smug.
“I interrupted you back.”
“That was rude.”
“You liked it.”
“I tolerated it.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
He rolled his eyes and pulled her against him until she squeaked.
“Still talking too much.”
She laughed into his shoulder.
The sun dipped lower, painting the field orange now.
They shifted until Katie was half lying on top of him, using his chest as a pillow.
His fingers returned to her hair, stroking slowly again.
“This is your whole move, huh?” she asked.
“What move?”
“Playing with my hair so I stay.”
“You were already staying.”
“Confident.”
“Accurate.”
“Do you ever worry,” she asked quietly, “that we’re bad at this?”
“At what?”
“This.” She gestured vaguely between them. “Caring about people normally.”
He thought about it.
“Yes.”
She looked up.
“Really?”
“All the time.”
That honesty surprised her.
“But,” he continued, “being bad at something doesn’t mean you stay bad at it.”
Katie was quiet.
“We can learn,” he said. “How to trust. How not to turn every feeling into a fight. How to say when we’re scared instead of pretending we’re angry.”
She blinked at him.
“That was mature.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
She smiled and tucked herself closer.
“You know what I think?”
“Dangerous start.”
“I think people only call me hard to love because they don’t know how.”
He grinned.
“And I think you’re impossible.”
“Also true.”
“And I think…” She hesitated. “I feel better when I’m with you.”
His expression softened again.
“I feel better when I’m with you too.”
The sky turned pink.
Then lavender.
Then deeper blue.
Lights from town flickered on in the distance.
Neither of them moved.
Eventually Ewroon said, “We should probably go before it gets dark.”
Katie tightened her arms around him.
“No.”
“You hate bugs.”
“I’ll fight them.”
“You lost to a moth last week.”
“It surprised me.”
He laughed.
Then carefully sat up, bringing her with him.
Grass clung to their clothes. Her hair was a mess.
“You look ridiculous,” he said.
“You’re obsessed with me.”
“Unfortunately.”
She dusted off his shoulder.
“You look ridiculous too.”
“That’s less surprising.”
They started walking back across the field side by side.
After a few steps, Katie bumped her hand against his.
He took it immediately.
No hesitation.
No joke.
Just held it.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while before Katie spoke again.
“If somebody messes with me tomorrow…”
“They’ll have to deal with me glaring from a reasonable distance.”
She laughed.
“That’s growth.”
“I’m trying.”
“And if I start thinking nobody likes me again?”
He squeezed her hand.
“I’ll remind you that one very annoying person likes you a lot.”
She looked at him.
“A lot?”
He glanced away.
“Don’t make this weird.”
“It’s already weird.”
“A lot,” he repeated reluctantly.
Katie smiled so brightly he had to look away again.
“You like me a lot,” she sang.
“Keep it up and I’ll revoke privileges.”
“What privileges?”
“Hair touches.”
She gasped dramatically.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
Then she reached up, fixed the hood of his sweatshirt for no reason, and kissed him once more.
Shorter this time.
Sweet.
When she pulled back, she said, “You’re stuck with me.”
He looked at her for a long second.
“Good.”
The wind moved through the field one last time as they kept walking, hands linked, arguing lightly about nothing at all.
And for the first time in a while, Katie didn’t feel like someone hard to love.
She felt chosen.