Hidden Treasure Chest

We’ve been at it for the best part of two hours and the light is beginning to fade. I’m no boy scout, so I have no real idea how long it will be before we’re forced to stop looking, but I’m pretty sure that time is getting close. I know, I know, it was a stupid thing to do. But really, how much longer is she going to keep going on and on about it and calling me names?
Looking back across the field I can see her little red car pulled up tight against the tumbledown gate, pretty much hidden from view. Not that we had needed to hide, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of anybody since we got here. And again, and again, and again. What a stupid thing to do, what was I thinking, and I still haven’t…. Haven’t what? But she doesn’t finish that one. Just leaves it hanging in the air between us, the pollen drifting through it.
We’ve only been seeing each other two weeks, and today had started so well, so perfectly. I can still taste her on my lips. But that taste is getting more and more bitter as her tongue lashes my ears.
I was having a go at being romantic. In my own way. Not that I really have a way with romance, or much experience for that matter. But I had genuinely been going for spontaneous and carefree, taking on board her little dropped hints that that was what she liked.
I am trying. Perhaps you can tell me off for trying a little too hard.
So, anyway, when we got here I threw her car keys across the field. I didn’t know it would take so long to find them. I also didn’t know the stupid car would lock itself automatically.
My cheeks had burned as I looked stupidly in the window of the locked door onto the back seat, where the picnic and blanket lay untouched.
Anyway, now I’m walking up and down again and there she is, right in my face, prodding me in the shoulder asking what am I going to do about it.
That hurts.
It’s hot, I’m bothered and that hurts.

Hidden Treasure Chest

A tiny part of me is still wondering if I can turn this situation around somehow when she gets a particular finger end really deep in my chest. It wrecks and I see red. Before I know it I grab both her arms and shove her away, she stumbles and falls, landing on her arse in the tall grass.
For half a second I think she might laugh But only for half a second, because then she screams with pain and looks down to where she planted her hand as she fell, onto the car keys.
Finally there is silence, a terribly uneasy silence, and I walk with my head down back to the gate, the car, my last lift home with her.