We visited the old temple early, skipping breakfast, and arriving long before the tourists had left their hotels.
I pulled two home-made orange number 8 badges from the pocket of my shorts.
I leant over to pin yours to your chest, but embarrassed, I just handed it to you.
Not taking your eyes from mine, you swept back your thick blonde tresses and I felt my cheeks turn scarlet as your hand pinched your pink t-shirt just over your left breast to make way for the safety-pin.
All my instincts implored me to kiss you but my body could only reach out clumsily for your hand.
You giggled, noticing my nervousness; took my head in your hands and brought it slowly towards your lips, only to turn it at the very last minute, to kiss me lightly on the cheek.
You laughed then, but it was a soft caring laugh.
“My Mum warned me about you,” you said.
“My Mum hasn’t a clue, she thinks I’m far too young for girls.”
“What do you think?”
“My Mum still has a lot to learn about me.”
Thanks once again to Priceless Joy for organising this weekly Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge and thank you TJ Paris for the photograph.