In a field filled with flowers, where his faded blue van was parked, Jason got up just early enough to catch the sunrise. Right on time, like always.

He never got tired of it. The way the colors slowly painted the sky and wrapped around the hills, brushing over the flowers like a soft whisper. It was quiet. Still. Beautiful.

Jason took a quick bath by the river, the water cold but refreshing, then cooked himself breakfast right after. Toast. Eggs. A sliced apple. Simple things. When everything was done, he popped open a chair just outside the van and sat with his plate, eating while watching the field stretch out ahead of him.

_“Hello?”_

A unfamiliar voice called out from behind.

Jason turned. There was a man standing a few steps away, beard grown out, a heavy backpack strapped over his shoulders.

“Hey,” Jason said, sitting up a little. “You a tourist or a hiker?”

“Both,” the man replied, walking a bit closer. “Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the Silver Pines Inn is? It’s supposed to be around here but my phone died. No signal.”

“Yeah, no signal around here.” Jason nodded, taking another bite of toast. “I know the place. Let me finish my meal first, then I’ll drive you there.”

The man hesitated, glancing around. He seemed unsure for a second, eyes flicking toward the van and then back at Jason, who looked too _relaxed_ to be dangerous.

“You sure it’s no trouble?” he asked.

“Yeah. No problem at all. I wouldn’t have offer if it was.”

The man gave a small nod, still watching Jason as he leaned back in the chair.

“Appreciate it, man.” His eyes shifted to the van, curiosity creeping into his voice. “This your ride? Damn. Looks more like a home than a vehicle.”

Jason chuckled. “I do live in it.”

The man let out a short laugh, then dropped his backpack to the ground with a loud thud. “Figures. It looks cozier than my apartment. And way cleaner, too.” He rolled his shoulder with a groan. “Been carrying this beast for miles. My back’s crying for help.”

“You can settle down yourself inside the van. I’ll be there in a bit,” Jason said, finishing off the last bite of his breakfast. “Recently got myself a new mattress—still has that brand-new feel. Slept like a baby last night.”

The man laughed. “Inviting me into your home and I don’t even know your name.”

Jason smirked, wiping his hands on his pants as he stood. “Well, remember me for my face. It’s Jason.”

“Ennis.” He reached out his hand.

Jason shook it with a firm nod.

A few minutes later, Jason packed up his chair, and slid the side door of the van open. Ennis was already inside, sitting cross-legged on the mattress, his backpack tucked near the door.

Jason climbed into the driver’s seat, adjusted the mirror, and gave the dashboard a light tap like greeting an old friend. When he glanced over his shoulder, he caught Ennis quietly watching the view through the small window Jason had installed himself. Morning light spilled in softly, brushing across Ennis’ face as he leaned in, calm and still.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jason said, adjusting the rearview mirror.

“I’m almost jealous you get to see this every day.”

“You’re a hiker, aren’t you?”

“Seasonal. I book a place and come around during the best weather.”

“Bet you’ve thought of living in a small cabin someday.”

Ennis let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I have. But it’s too risky. I’ve got responsibilities back in the city.”

“Used to be in those shoes,” Jason said, then finally started the engine.

“Inn, right?”

“Yup. Silver Pines Inn.”

“It’ll be about a ten-minute drive.”

Ennis stayed quiet as Jason drove. He glanced around the van, noticing photos pinned along the inside walls. Each one was a shot of somewhere different. Oceans. Forests. Open roads. Places he’d never seen.

But there wasn’t a single photo of the mountain he was planning to hike.

“Hey man, you up for joining me on a hike this afternoon?”

Jason grinned without looking back. “Hell yeah. Can I bring my van?”

“If we could even lift that thing up.”

They both laughed.

─────────────────

**_End Note: A song called “Everygreen” by Richy Mitch very much describes what I was trying to go for this short story._**