my hips grind against him and blue eyes looks up at me, smiling, in a daze, caressing my ass. i collapse beside him, he wraps me in his arms.
“you have this sweater that you wear sometimes,” he says, bringing his nose down to mine. “it’s green and pink. i secretly call it your watermelon sweater. you look so cute in it.”
i laugh. i wince. i think back to seven months ago, lying side by side in bed, telling green eyes about the first time i saw him.
“you were wearing this blue button-down shirt with a print on it,” i say. “you were walking through the lecture hall, i tapped my friend, i said ‘who is blue shirt’? i need to talk to him.”
he turned his head towards the window. “i have a lot of blue shirts.”