Pieces of Lies by Angela Richardson

was touching me and that we were together.
    Taking in the view of the garden, my mouth fell open. It was a spectacular display of hedge work and various stone pathways amongst large trees and flower beds, all lined with various kinds of lighting from twinkly fairy lights to bigger garden lamps which illuminated the base of some of the bigger trees and flower beds. It looked magical. “Clint this is…” His fingers expanded and his whole palm rested on my waist. My breathing quickened even more.
    “We are holding a ball out here later this month.”
    It was such a gorgeous sight. “It’s a perfect spot for one.” I noticed the gardens backed onto a lake, the water catching the light reflecting off the garden’s luminosity. “Do you have a boat as well?”
    We continued to walk through the gardens and towards the water. “We do, but my older brother Leo has actually taken it out for a few weeks.” My feet started to ache in my heels and I leant down to adjust my feet in my shoes, my dress sliding along my skin as I moved. I caught a glimpse of Clint’s eyes darting as the material shifted position along my chest. “Are your feet sore, do you want to sit a while on the mooring?”
    I sighed happily, “That would be brilliant, thanks.” Clint led the way a small distance to a mooring. As we sat, I removed my heels and let my feet hang over the edge, missing the surface of the water by inches.
    The quietness of our surroundings, paired with the crisp evening air on our faces, made us relax. We found ourselves talking through the night about our studies and what we hoped to do after graduation. I found it remarkable how easily we could converse and share bits and pieces about our likes, dislikes and future aspirations. Clint talked about his family’s business and how he was being groomed to take over, but that he really wanted to pursue finance independently in New York. 
    Watching him talk about what he wanted for himself and his future, I found myself completely enchanted by his vulnerability and softness in the way he spoke. He had a depth of character I had dismissed purely because I had stereotyped him due to his playboy status and wealth. Right here, right now, he seemed so sensitive and genuine, and as he continued to talk, I imagined listening to him for many years to come. The idea felt peaceful, which only made me curse myself for feeling like I was getting attached.
    There was a break in conversation, and as Clint leant back on on the mooring, his hair fell forward and across his face, partially covering his eyes. I gently moved his hair that fell across his forehead, in a very tender and slow motion. In that instant he moved so he could grip my hand that was still on his face. He held it, staring at me. I loved it when we looked at each other. Time felt like it was standing still just for us.
    Dawn broke and the garden was now coming alive with color and life. I had not even realized the whole night had passed so quickly.
    “You know Norah, you make me want to, lose control.”
    I withdrew my hand from his. “And that’s a bad thing?” 
    He turned and stared out across the lake. “It is if your future is already laid out for you and you are expected to do what you are told. It’s an incredible amount of pressure to live with day in and day out, and I can’t let myself open up and get, distracted.”
    “Is that why you keep running away from me Clint?” 
    He didn’t answer and instead traced my hand with his finger as I leant back on the mooring next to him. He seemed lost in thought.
    Staring out across the lake, I watched as the sun decorated the surface of the water with hues of yellow and orange as it came alive with the aura of morning. 
    “Perhaps it’s time to break free and do what you really want to do, Clint.” I swallowed hard thinking about my own advice. Clint smiled awkwardly and then shook his head.
    “How do you not have a boyfriend?” Clint asked, changing our