I chuckle at this, and he looks at me puzzled. We are parked by a cliff at the edge of Greenfield Forest, and Gauthier and I are seated at the bonnet of his car facing each other. It’s a beautiful autumn afternoon, and the wind has been kind today. Gentle. Cool, but not chilly. It’s quiet out here, silent. Beautiful, but my eyes are fixed on him. Nothing else around us, however breathtaking, can distract me from him. “You are confusing me,” I tell him. “Am I?” He asks, his eyes sparkling against the mellow sunlight. “Yes,” I say, my thoughts scattered at the sight of his eyes, making it hard for me to remember what I wanted to say. “You tell me to move closer, then tell me not to move my face closer.” “Just your hands,” he clarifies. He lifts his gloved hands now, raises his palms to face me. “Move just your hands. Bring them close, but don’t touch me.
