Forelsket; 

The euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

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"Where are we going?" Charise asked. Her heart was beating awfully quickly, she could almost hear it trying to break out of her ribcage. "Jason, are you even listening?"

He wasn't. His hand still tightly clenched Charise's. Even though she was beginning to regret all her life decisions, she didn't let go of his hand.

Charise glanced back. She could barely make out her house in the dark. It seemed more like an oddly shaped sculpture with glowing holes rather than a house. The Sawyer's home, however, that was standing only a few feet away from them was now in focus. It was a large, victorian home with a white, decorative roof trim and a  maroon-tiled roof. The windows were new (she could tell), unlike the last time she was here. When Charise was a child this house didn't belong to anyone, or maybe it did. As kids, they really didn't care. Their mother didn't like them playing there, she was worried about what could happen - "You're gonna fall off the roof and break your neck! You want that to happen?" her scaring tactics never worked though, nothing could keep her away from that house.

She sighed. Childhood was fun. 

"That's our drive." Jason pointed to the red Chervolet that was parked outside the house. He opened the passenger door and with a wide grin on his face looked at Charise, "After you."

Reluctantly, she slid into the passenger's seat and waited for Jason to circle around the car and get in through the driver's side.

The interior of the car was coated with claret leather. She took a deep breath. Leather, the smell of luxury, Charise thought and listened as Jason started the engine of the car. It roared to life. She looked out the window, her hands in her lap. This felt similar to yesterday, when she and Danny were driving to the market.

Yesterday.

Jesus, I barely know him... for a split second she wanted to yell Screw this! and get out of the car, run back to the party and pretend as though nothing happened.

Too late, they were already moving.

Jason drove out onto the dirt road and Charise watched as the glowing lights from her home slowly disappeared.

"You're not much of a talker, huh?"

Jason's voice made Charise jump - as always.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" he muttered apologetically.

"Oh, no," she chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I guess I'm just not used to these kinds of things."

"What things?"

"Uh - ditching a two-family, pretty important party?"

"Party? Please, it's closer to a funeral."

Charise laughed. Am I bad for laughing? What if someone in his family died-

"So what kind of things are you used to?" he asked, interrupting Charise's overanalyzing mind. Again. 

"I-" she frowned, trying to think of something to say, "Burnt coffee."

"Burnt coffee?" Jason laughed. "How come?"

"Back when I lived in Washington, I used to go to this really awful little coffee place," Charise said. "The coffee was burnt, but it was the only place-" she cut off. It was the only place she could afford.

Jason briefly glanced at her, his gaze conflicted and slightly confused. Chairse suddenly felt that same overwhelming urge to leave the car, to jump out. This is how you mess everything up, she scolded herself, You say something you really shouldn't and then-"

"The only place...?" his attention was back on the road. Charise's eyes wandered to his hands, they were strong and loosely held onto the red steering wheel. He must be a confident driver. Why didn't I ever learn to drive?

"I could afford," she admitted shamefully. Her eyes slowly trickled up to meet Jason's, expecting a disappointed expression. -you don't mess it all up?

He seemed unfazed. Calm, normal. 

"We all have to start somewhere, right?" he smiled. "Gotta drink a million burnt coffees before tasting a macchiato."

Charise grinned like a little girl. "I suppose so."

~*~

It was fifteen minutes into the drive when Charise was starting to slowly understand where they might be going, yet she didn't know why.

They were dubbed, "The Endless Fields", for as kids they had no idea how wide they were. Their little legs couldn't take them that far. Their mother always worried about them getting lost, yet they never listened. When did they? Never? Perhaps when her mother had advised her against becoming an artist she should've listened? 

"I don't understand," Charise said bluntly. "Why are we here?"

"I own these fields." Jason took a sharp turn left that forced Charise to press into the door of the car. 

No surprise there, you might as well own the whole village for that matter, she numbly thought to herself. It felt strange, almost intimidating to be around someone like Jason Sawyer. Was this really the man she met at the market? The man who took her hand and convinced her to run away like a teenager?

She looked ahead through the windscreen.

Shock crossed her face, her mouth dropping open slightly. "Is that-"

"Yes," he said, a wide grin creeping up his face. 

Landed on the dry, grass-field was a milk-colored airplane. Its bottom half was dipped into a deep, burgundy red. It reminded her of the toy model airplane Danny used to have, only his was a light shade of blue. Beech A36 Bonanza,  was it? Her brother would drill airplane models into her head, she wanted to impress him so she'd try and remember them. This was Danny's favorite. The sharp, geometric propeller stuck to the front appealed to him, and so did the gradually narrowing cockpit. It wasn't a large airplane by any means, and she doubted that it could fly more than two, maybe four passengers. 

"First made in 1947 by Beech Aircraft Corporation, this airplane has been in production longer than any other aircraft in history," Jason proudly stated. She felt Jason's gaze burn into the side of her face, but she determinedly stared ahead at the plane, examining it's small, round wheels that were coated with a thick layer of rubber. Those wheels tuck away once the airplane takes off Cherry, ya know that?

"Are we going to fly it?" she asked softly.

"No, we're going to ride around in it like a sports car," Jason muttered sarcastically. 

Charise shot him a mixed glance, both playful and stern.

"Of course we're going to fly it, well I'm going to fly it." Jason stepped out of the car and Charise followed him. "May I take your hand?"

She nodded and gently slid her hand into his. She looked up at the aircraft standing before them, it suddenly seemed twice as large and more like a death sentence than a petty getaway trip. What have I gotten myself into?