that's love

"Don't feed the hand that bites you".
"That makes no sense, but the endearment is noted".
"That's all I'm saying". He looked away. His mouth was dry.
"Beware of tempting shiny apples". His heart raced in confusion. She appeared calm, heartsick inside, and when he looked back at her standing on the train platform, a chilled breeze from one end to the other caught her up, hair falling in her eyes. But she was smiling.

She remembered the first time she saw him. Her car conked out on a lonely stretch of highway. And he was out standing in a field, perfectly still like a scarecrow holding a pole, an ax for clearing brush near is feet. During college break he worked as a surveyors helper. It was his job not to move much. It was the story of his life up to then. He was out there in the field wearing a long coat, and it reminded her of a shepherd meditating and tending to sheep.
She walked towards him calling, "I'm stranded. Can you help me"? Turning his head under the hoodie, being careful not to shift the pole to turn the future road into a concave pond, he saw the girl in those same black jeans and converse shoes walking towards him. She was close now, and she repeated the question breathlessly. He let the pole keel over and walked away with her forever. The bulldozer drivers will just have to wing it. That was love.
"You dropped your pole", she reminisced on the platform.
"I lost my job", he laughed quietly. They were quiet afterwards, until a booming voice out of tinny speakers above may or may not have called the end.
They both looked at those speakers as they were still fizzing static, then silent.
She was close to him now. "What was that about shiny apples"?
He pulled her close like only a shy man can do and kissed her.