Day 10 - Hammock

"Bart, you're squishing me."

If it had been, say, Fei, Bart would have laughed roguishly and shoved his shoulder a little farther over. If it had been Elly, he might have laughed a little more nervously and scooched back, slightly.

Since it was Gala, she soon found herself completely cocooned by the hammock as Bart leapt to the grass below them, then whipped around, seemingly caught off balance by the lack of his braid following behind him since they'd both taken their hair down.

Gala said nothing. Bart wouldn't have heard her, anyway, since she had a mouthful of canvas. Not thought so well through, huh?

She could sort of hear him frowning, though.

If she didn't say sorry, he wouldn't either. Their current little pact was working, because they both kept silent.

Eventually, two careful, callused hands prised open the cocoon once more. Bart's grin was automatic when he saw Gala's unadorned face, glasses tucked into a pack resting against one of the trees.

But, to business.

"If you get out, I can get in first, and then you can lie on top of me."

Gala sighed. That did sound nice, but there was a more pressing (ha) issue at hand. "I didn't say it was bothering me."

"Well, but...but you brought it up! So of course I wanted to make sure you were comfortable, Gala!"

I was comfortable, she thought. Very. "You might have squished me more," she suggested aloud. Mostly it bothered her that Bart still sometimes treated her like a delicate creature, a moth that would flutter away - not even, a butterfly!

Lowering one knee to the ground, Bart placed fingertips on the edge of the hammock.

"I'm sorry, Gala - really! I just...can't bear the thought of hurting you."

Catapulting her? Apparently completely bearable.