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lovebugism · 1 year ago

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omg omg omg I can’t wait for tcar part 9 🥹 I miss eddie spaghetti and peach so much 🥹🥹🥹

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | sunshine, sometimes

summary: the gang searches for peace of mind at lake lemon. after an enlightening conversation with steve, eddie unknowingly stirs up a storm. (17k)

pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader, mentions of past steve harrington / f!reader

tags: experienced!reader, idiots in love, domestic bliss (road trip edition), newly established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, the gang's all here! TW probable typos, swearing, mentions of b*lly h*rgrove and toxic relationships, kissing, heavy petting, fingering, eddie coming in his pants (vol. 3), smut 18+

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You think it’s entirely possible that you made Eddie up in your head.

Sleeping next to you, painted in satin shades of pale pink and milky white, he looks exactly like a dream.

His curls are wild, spread across his face and cotton pillow in a chestnut-colored halo around his head. Soft snores billow from his rosy mouth in heavy, even breaths — a heavenly sound you think could lull you back to sleep all over again. His long lashes flutter against the flushed apple of his cheek, made a gentle strawberry shade from the ardor of his slumber. The soft color splotches the tip of his nose and the plush of his lips.

Eddie’s made of all the prettiest colors you wish you could paint. Maybe then he’d finally see himself the way you do. He possesses an otherworldly kind of beauty — one bordering on religious — something holy people used to sacrifice themselves for.

And here he is. In your bed and on your mouth, like a vivid ruby lipstick stain you’re not rushing to rub out just yet. Or ever, if you had anything to say about it.

“I can feel you staring, weirdo,” Eddie mumbles, slurred and heavy with sleep. The words come out muffled because his face is shoved into the pillow.

You’re not as embarrassed at getting caught as you probably should be.

You could deny it if you wanted. His eyes are still shut. You’ve got every ounce of plausible deniability to defend yourself with, but for some strange reason, you don’t feel the urge to. He was far too pretty not to be unabashedly examined, like a piece of art you could stare at for ages and find something new in every time.

“Really?” you hum in return, voice as quiet with leftover fatigue as your sleepy smile. “I didn’t know my boyfriend had superpowers.”

The smile that tugs at Eddie’s mouth is absentminded but no less sincere. It’s lopsided and rosy and full of all the love he has for you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of being called your boyfriend. He figures his chest will swell every time he hears the words — as long as they spill from your mouth, anyway.

“You weren’t supposed to know about that,” he teases quietly — eyes still shut, grin still pressed into the pillow.

“I can keep a secret,” you promise in a whisper. Your hand rises from beneath the fluffy comforter to spread across his cheek. Your palm settles warmly at his jaw as your fingers brush a few rogue curls from his forehead. “As long as you give me a kiss for it.”

Eddie’s smile, weighed down by sleep and adoration, only widens at your words.

His button eyes are swollen as he blinks the haze of sleep from them. It feels a little like his heart has stopped when he’s able to see you clearly.

It’s like he’s looking down a high-up cliff or staring into the deep abyss of outer space — a warm, empty, and lurching feeling in his chest that only comes from witnessing something so profound.

The profundity in question is you.

It’s your wild hair and puffy cheeks and crooked smile. It’s the way your swollen eyes twinkle with adoration at an ungodly hour of the morning. The way your honey voice seems to match the golden sunrise. You’re an angel in the flesh — a divinely ethereal being wearing his Hellfire tee to sleep in.

The beauty you are takes him by surprise for all of half a second. It makes him forget how to breathe and makes his brain go all fuzzy. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time every time he looks at you.

“Well, as long as it’ll keep you quiet,” Eddie huffs, feigning annoyance, as he lifts his head off the pillow to settle onto yours.

His plush lips press against your subtle smile a second later. Your mouths entwine something heavy, like maple syrup or marshmallow fluff — a kiss so full of sleep and distant longing.

But that’s all it is. A kiss. It’s nothing more than an innocuous peck that Eddie stamps upon your mouth. His nose smushes into the side of yours, and he’s gone as quickly as he came.

Your shut eyes flutter open again. They widen when Eddie ducks down for another sneaking peck. He lingers a few moments longer this time, like he can’t quite get enough of you the same way you can never seem to get enough of him.

Your grin grows. You feel a bit like you’re glittering all over when Eddie settles back onto the mattress. But maybe that’s just the rising sun peeking in flaxen shades from the window — or maybe it’s love sparkling like orange embers in your chest. Maybe it’s both.

Maybe loving Eddie feels pink and gold like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

It’s just as easy, anyway.

“Ooh,” you singsong with a smile as you prop yourself on your elbow. “Two for one deal, huh?”

The boy shrugs one shoulder. His leadened lids fall over his chocolate syrup eyes when sleep threatens to pull him under again. He shifts against the mattress to get comfortable, though it’s much harder without you pressed against him.

“I gotta secret identity to protect, sweets. Gotta make sure we keep it under wraps and everything, you know?” The tired boy’s mumbles are followed by a hearty yawn that scrunches his sleep-ridden features.

“Well, you can pry this secret from my cold, dead hands,” you lilt quietly, leaning down to sprinkle a featherlight kiss to his flushed cheek. His skin is warm against your mouth, rosy with a good night’s sleep.

“Well, except for Robin,” you whisper shortly thereafter. “I have to tell Robin.”

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose in place of a laugh.

“And Steve, too. He’ll be mad if I tell Robin and not him.”

“Right,” Eddie scoffs with a tired nod against his pillow.

You can tell he’s trying hard to stay awake for you. He’d done this the night before, too — kept talking to you even though his body was threatening to shut down after a long day of school and road-tripping. You’d called him out on it then, and he confessed that it hurt too much to stop talking to you. He said he’d rather be exhausted than miss you, even for the faintest fraction of a second.

A smile hints at the corners of your lips as you stare down at the boy. You duck down once more to brush a fleeting kiss to the warm apple of his cheek — there and gone again.

Eddie sighs at the heavenly feeling, then scrunches his features in annoyance when the mattress shifts beneath him.

“Where are you going?” he grouses over the sound of your padding feet and the door creaking open. He’s got one tired eye squinted when he rises to look at you over his shoulder. His untamed curls are as drenched with sleep as the rest of his softly swollen features.

You stand in the doorway and smile back at him. You don’t look nearly as exhausted as he does. That’s only because you spent the better part of the morning ogling at him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that.

It wouldn’t change anything, anyway.

Slumber looks too good on you. It’s got you glowing like a pink and orange sunrise, grinning like the morning dew has kissed you. It’s a very distinct part of your beauty that took Eddie several days of unabashed staring to understand. You’ve got a far-off kind of quality about you, dreamlike.

You’re a nymph made of flower petals with unearthly eyes and angelic lips. You’re a swan princess who’s enchanted his imagination. His mind can’t go anywhere without bumping into thoughts of you — like some romantic spell you’ve cast upon him.

Still a bit grumpy with sleep and overcome with yearning, Eddie makes a mental note to add you to a future campaign. What better way to tell someone you love them than by making them your muse, solidifying them in the history of you forever?

“I’m gonna tell everyone that my boyfriend is basically the metalhead equivalent of Clark Kent,” you joke with a crooked smile that flashes your similarly crooked teeth.

The door creaks when it shuts behind you. Eddie’s chest aches with the empty feeling of missing you. The warmth of adoration lingers, however, as though you’d never left at all.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Thankfully, no one had gotten Jason Voorhees-ed while you were sleeping.

You make your rounds about the cabin, peeking into darkened bedrooms and making sure everyone was where you’d left them. You knew Robin hadn’t truly meant her words from the day before, about Ted Bundy or some equivalent creep stalking the woods of Lake Lemon. She’s sincere but in a blatantly irrational sort of way. Sweet but slightly insane. She’s an illogical genius that unintentionally gets in your head.

You’re grateful to find that you hadn’t woken up in the middle of slasher film, however. You’re able to exhale a trembling sigh of relief as you walk into the kitchen.

Steve The Hair Harrington unknowingly keeps you company as you break out the supplies needed to make a couple of teenagers a sufficient breakfast. His soft snores fill the quiet cabin from where he’s sprawled out in the center of the pull-out couch in the living room. He’s twisted in a thin white sheet and gripping a single pillow like his life depends on it.

He used to hold you like that, too. Like you were a buoy in an ocean and the only thing keeping him afloat. He’d cage you in his arms with a grip that only seemed to intensify with his sleep. It felt like being suffocated almost. But in a good way.

The memory is glittering with reminiscence instead of soaking in heartache.

You don’t miss being with Steve, nor do you miss the person you were when you were with him. You do miss the closeness of him, though — in the simplest, most human way. Also, you just really like taking the piss out of him and all his little idiosyncrasies.

With his sleeping form so near, everything you do feels so much louder in the quiet. The fridge closes too aggressively, the eggs crack too sharply, the cabinets close too harshly. You grimace with every noise you make, checking over your shoulder to make sure Steve hadn’t heard from across the room.

He hadn’t. ‘Cause he tends to sleep like he’s hibernating.

He doesn’t rouse when a humming car crunches against gravel when it pulls into the driveway outside — or when the bowl of pancake batter in your hands clatters to the countertop accordingly.

The milky white concoction sways in the container, splashing in pearly dots onto the gray granite. You’re too distracted to focus on the mess. Your heart starts to race at the appearance of the sudden visitor with the irrational thought that Ted Bundy was strolling up to your doorstep like some kind of offbeat traveling salesman.

God, you need to stop hanging out with Robin so much. Or watching so many horror movies. Maybe both.

Because it’s only Nancy.

It’s sweet, beautiful, lithe Nancy Wheeler and her beat-up Station Wagon.

Her curly hair is cropped at her shoulders, hastily combed through and pinned out of her face with a butterfly clip. Her pretty pink skirt swishes around her knees as she reaches for a leather satchel in the backseat. Her purple and white Emerson College tee is tucked into it, matching the same-colored Converse on her feet.

“Hey,” she greets with a pretty wave and delicate smile when she catches sight of you in the doorway.

“Hi…” you respond, mixed with a breathy sigh of what should be relief.

Because she isn’t Ted Bundy — or some local Lake Lemon serial killer. She’s far too pretty and far too kind to be either of those. But your heart still thrums something fierce against your ribcage when you look at her. You’re still drenched with ice-cold fear when you know you should be relieved.

But despite your clammy trembling hands, you hold the door open for her.

She winces at the sight of Steve’s sleeping figure on the couch, ocean eyes widening at his freckled back peeking from beneath the thin sheet. Her footsteps become noticeably lighter as you lead her into the kitchen.

It’s far too big for just the two of you. The open space is filled only with a distant awkwardness and the potent smell of sweet vanilla you’d dropped into the pancake batter.

“Sorry…” Nancy grimaces as she sets her bag on the dining table, as though her company was something she needed to be excused for. Her bushy brows pinch together, and her doe-eyes swim with apology. “I know I was supposed to be here last night…”

You shift your weight on your feet across from her, arms wrapping around yourself for further comfort. She’s just a few feet away from you, but the distance feels cavernous.

“Yeah, is— is everything, you know… okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just— it’s dumb,” Nancy scoffs out a laugh, shrugging off your worry with ease. Her gaze flits to the ceiling. You can see smudged eyeliner around her eyes, like she’s still wearing yesterday’s makeup. “I got carried away with the school paper after school, and I didn’t get home until late, and I… I figured I should just wait until morning to make the drive, you know?

You nod slowly in response — for a couple seconds too long, maybe — as you think of what else to say. “Well, was, uh— was traffic okay, at least?”

“Yeah. It was fine,” she answers and bites back a yawn. “People around here are amazing drivers, you know, so… It was a perfect, anxiety-free three hours.”

Her plush pink lips curl into a smile.

Yours follow suit, but the breathy laugh that spills from them feels much more forced.

“You’re probably tired, huh?” you wonder, then ramble before she can answer you. “I could get Steve to move upstairs with Robin— or Robin can come down here, and you can take the bed. Unless you wanna share with her, but fair warning, she does kick in her sleep, so…”

A giggle spills from Nancy’s mouth. It’s a soft, bubbly sound that squints the edges of her eyes. Her pointed chin tucks to her chest like she’s trying to hide the gentle grin from you.

You can’t tell if she finds your babbling amusing or endearing like Eddie does.

You quickly realize you don’t care — you’re just proud that you’ve made her smile. And, fuck, you can’t even blame Steve for wanting her more than you because look at her. You should hate her, yet you can’t take your eyes off her.

“No, I’m good. We can… deal with all that when everyone wakes up, I guess,” she dismisses with a shake of her head.

You vaguely catch her eyes darting past you to the tornado of breakfast behind you — a whirlwind of uncooked food, miscellaneous containers, and crumbled napkins. It’s a mess only a gentle, well-meaning child could make. That’s what you feel like most days, anyway, so you guess it kind of fits.

“Do you want help with breakfast?” Nancy wonders when her gaze flits back to you.

You can’t tell if she’s asking to be kind or if she really wants to. You decline either way. “No. You’ve— You’ve been driving all morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you affirm with a wavering smile.

Her grin is equally sheepish. She falters, a tad bit awkwardly at first, before mumbling something and heading out the back door to explore.

A trembling sigh of relief shakes through your chest when the sliding glass door swishes shut behind her.

It gets better over time — the preliminary tension that settles like suffocating humidity between the two of you — but it never gets any easier. A forgive but can’t forget sort of rigidity you can’t quite smooth out.

You get only a few more minutes of uninterrupted solitude after Nancy’s gone. The last bit of peace you’re bound to have all day.

A door clicks open and shut again from down the hallway, followed by the subtle scuff of socked feet against carpet.

Your eyes widen softly when Dustin appears from around the corner, though you figure you really shouldn’t be surprised. Of course he was the kid that woke up before the rest of his friends. You feel a bit like you should fix him a cup of black coffee while he reads the business section of the newspaper. He’s far more mature than you were at fourteen.

“Oh,” you hum quietly, a soft smile twitching at the edges of your lips. “Morning.”

Dustin’s swollen eyes squint at you. His gaze darts around the room, as wild as the chestnut curls on his head. It’s strange not seeing him in his usual Thinking Cap. He looks a little foreign in his baggy blue Scooby Doo pajama pants and baggier yellow Camp Know-Where tee.

“Where’s Eddie?” he wonders aloud when he turns back to you, like he can’t quite fathom seeing one of you without the other somewhere nearby.

Your chest aches. You don’t know why.

Well, you do, but you figure it shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does.

Dustin was Eddie’s friend. He had zero obligation to care about you the same way. He didn’t have to like you past his not-so-subtle admiration for your boyfriend, but it still hurts that he doesn’t think you’re as cool.

“Uh… Still sleeping. I think,” you lilt, voice as high and light as the salty breeze slipping past the slightly ajar backdoor.

“Oh. Okay.” Dustin nods and doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t seem as weighed down by the silence as you are. He peeks over his shoulder at Steve’s rousing figure on the couch and then at the pots and pans of food on the counter. His tired blue eyes fill with light when they flit at you again. “Can I help?”

He’s suddenly aglow with a boyish sort of enthusiasm. His bushy brows raise and a smile pulls at his face, and you find it dreadfully hard to tell him no.

“Sure. If you want to, but—” You’re about to prattle on and on about how he shouldn’t feel obligated to. That he’s a kid on vacation and can sleep in if he wants. That he shouldn’t have to worry about helping you if he doesn’t really want to.

But he’s already walking to the sink, flipping on the faucet so he can wash his hands.

Your aching heart swells with warmth.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The rest of your friends wake up one by one.

Mike and El come out shortly after Dustin, the latter already dressed for the day. She’s a ray of sunshine compared to her grumpy boyfriend. His hair is a wild raven halo, and his cheeks are lined with indentions from the sheets. El hangs on his arm in a pair of jean coveralls, sparkling like the cerulean waters outside.

“Wanna call Hopper?” you ask the blushing girl from where you scramble eggs at the stove.

She nods with her cheek smushed into Mike’s shoulder, eyes wide and sheepish like she’s embarrassed about wanting to talk to her dad. You don’t blame her for it. You tend to call Hopper after most minor inconveniences.

Dustin mans the kitchen while you help her with the telephone. He’s very meticulous about the cooking, like he’s got flipping pancakes down to a science. He’s too good of a sous-chef for you to get mad at him for stealing from the stack every now and then.

Robin and Max are sitting at the dining table by the time you get back. They’re practically zombies, silent and grumpy, with their freckled features scrunched like they take offense to the early morning.

Lucas is the last of the kids to come out, though a part of you thinks it might’ve been intentional.

He’s traded his pajamas for day clothes — Hawkins Tigers track pants and a fitted t-shirt. He idles in the kitchen for several long moments with his trembling hands balled into fists. You can tell he wants to sit next to Max. The thought of rejection keeps him from gravitating towards her, though. Instead, he stands at the counter next to Dustin and tries to hide his grieving.

Steve comes second to last — which is strange, because he was the first one there in a sense. The volume in the kitchen grows too loud for him to ignore. When he comes to the begrudging realization that there’s no falling back to sleep, he decides to join the rest of you.

His feet trudge down the hall when he returns from the bathroom. The only remnants of slumber he wears are the sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt he’d thrown on sometime after waking up. His structured features are seemingly too sharp to be weighed down by fatigue.

“Where are those little shits going?” he wonders in the place of any actual greeting. He eyes Mike and El as they depart through the sliding glass door. His bushy brows scrunch in confusion and distant worry — neither of which ever seem to leave him.

“Probably to talk to Nancy—”

“What?” Steve sputters, wide-eyed and gaped mouth. “Nancy’s— Nancy’s here?”

Your brows pinch at his shock. You scrape fluffy yellow eggs from the skillet into a large bowl, fit to feed a sizable family — yours of which has squeezed like sardines into this cabin. “Well… You did invite her, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but…” he trails off, features twisted in puzzlement. His anxious hands prop against his sweatpant-clad waist. “When did she get in?”

“This morning—”

His eyes fly open once more. His head whips over his shoulder, like he might see her standing there, then turns back to gape at you again. “And you didn’t wake me up?”

You scoff a faint laugh at him. “Why would I wake you up?”

“‘Cause he’s in love with her,” Dustin answers for him, mouth full of the pancake he grips in his right hand. “Obviously.”

“Shut up,” Steve squints at him with all the annoyance of an older sibling despite having been an only child all his life. His irked features relax when his cinnamon gaze flits to you. “Where is she now?”

“Uh… She went for a walk a while ago,” you answer absentmindedly, as though she hadn’t been on your mind the whole time. “I think she’s sitting out by the beach waiting for everyone to get up now, though.”

You and Steve share similarly narrowed eyes when you look out the kitchen window. The brunette girl sits at the square table outside the cabin. You can only see the profile of her pointed features as she smiles up at her younger brother and his girlfriend — a look so full of annoyance it can only be love.

“Maybe take it down a few notches before you try to talk to her, alright, Stevie?” Robin teases from the dining table.

“Yeah,” Lucas lilts with a slow nod, obviously playful in his dogpiling. He leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, trying hard not to smile too wide. “You look a little crazy right now, man.”

“It’s only ‘cause you little shits drive me crazy,” Steve defends in a monotone.

“Go tell her breakfast is almost done,” you advise with a sincere smile, though your eyes sparkle with mischief. “You can use that as an excuse to talk to her instead of whatever bullshit you were about to make up.”

Steve nods with a flat face. “Thanks, Peach.”

Dustin and Lucas help you transport the containers of food to the rectangle dining table — pancakes, eggs, sausage, and only halfway stale biscuits. Basically whatever leftover groceries you could find in the cupboards and the fridge.

Steve is too busy idling in one place to bother helping. With his eyes trained on the sliding glass door, it’s too apparent that he’s in his own head. He’s trying hard to work up the courage to talk to a girl he’s known for years now.

As you sit in your seat at the table — beside Robin, across from Max, with a spare chair open for Eddie on your other side — you watch the fidgeting boy from over your shoulder. His pointed features harden slightly with his newfound bravery, his chest puffing with a wavering breath in. You watch him take a firm step towards the door, but he’s stopped in place by three bodies already walking towards it.

Nancy was already on her way back, with Mike and El at her side. Steve had been too late — too doubtful of himself, too frightened of the pushed-away problems he’d caused. He’s forced to share awkward, trembling smiles with his first love and not a thing more.

You feel his heartache as if it were your own.

Eddie’s footsteps stomp, stomp, stomp down the spiral staircase when he finally comes down.

Your heart warms at the very sight of him, as though you were looking at the rest of your life in the flesh — wild hair, swollen eyes, wrinkled t-shirt, and all. It’s too early to smile as wide as you do.

“Morning, Eds,” you greet, because everyone’s too busy stuffing their faces or writhing in unrequited love to do it for you.

His lips curl into a soft smile, weighed down by fatigue but rosy with his love for you. The pink expression grows when he sees the full table and the seat you left open for him. “Morning, sweetheart,” he lilts in response.

“How convenient,” Dustin squints from the head of the table, adjacent to Lucas and Eddie’s vacant seat. He’s got scrambled egg clinging to the side of his mouth as he chastises, “You show up right when breakfast is done.”

“Sorry, Dusty Bun,” Eddie apologizes with a teasing inflection that would imply that he’s not actually sorry. His chair scrapes against the kitchen tile when he pulls it out from under the table. “It’s not my fault I have impeccable timing.”

Your eyes dart to the boy standing beside you. They dance across his sleep-ridden features as your lips quirk in a cheeky half-smile.

You know better than anyone that he’s only ever late to everything. The only time you can count on him being early is if there’s a Hellfire campaign or when he’s coming in his jeans.

Eddie grows sheepish with the same understanding. His cheeks flush with a poorly hidden smirk as he sits down next to you. “Don’t say anything, Peach,” he mutters quietly to you.

The table, now sufficiently full, seems to thrum with life. Whether they’re picking at their food like Steve and Lucas, or stuffing their faces like Dustin and Robin, you can’t help but smile softly at each of them.

They feel like family — like you’ve upped and carried your home with you three hours away. You’d forgotten what not being alone felt like before now. Your chest swells with a newfound life you didn’t even know you were missing.

“Uh, did everyone pack a bathing suit?” you wonder aloud with a bright smile on your face, a measly question to fill the silence and the sound of silverware against porcelain plates.

Everyone nods and hums soft “yeah”’s with their mouths full — except for Eddie.

The boy beside you stills with his fork in front of his mouth. His dark eyes go wide as he looks over at you. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters in the place of an answer. “I was supposed to pack a bathing suit?”

You find his forgetful disposition rather endearing. You can too easily imagine him standing in the middle of his bedroom, mouthing everything you told him to pack while counting them on his fingers. You can see his brows furrowing with a distant pout while he asks himself “what the hell am I forgetting?”

You’re too in love to be annoyed with him — or ill-prepared.

“I packed trunks for you. It’s okay,” you murmur in response, voice as quiet as the smile you look at him with.

Eddie’s chest aches. It’s too warm to be his heart breaking — too fluffy and sticky and sweet. It’s a burning sort of pain that can only be pure, unadulterated love.

“God, you are the woman of my dreams, baby,” he confesses lowly, mostly to himself.

You only hear the words leave his mouth because he’s leaning in to kiss you. You don’t meet him halfway, but instead grin softly at his efforts, which you know are bound to be interrupted.

“Hey!” Dustin scolds through the bite of biscuit in his mouth. “No kissing at the table!”

Robin licks syrup from the corner of her mouth, then concurs through her pancakes, “Yeah. You wanna make everybody here puke or what?”

“Or what,” you answer the rhetorical question, meeting her deadpanned expression with a smile. You tilt your head to your shoulder and scrunch your nose. “Preferably, at least.”

“How about everyone just keep their hands to themselves, yeah?” Steve advises in a monotone. His honey eyes flit around the table with a significant focus on you and Eddie and Mike and El. He waves his fork in his hand, still piercing the cooled piece of scrambled egg he hasn’t eaten yet. “How about that?”

“Okay, Hopper,” you scoff to yourself.

El snorts a quiet laugh from across the table, on Max’s other side.

Steve flashes you an annoyed glance from across Robin sitting between the two of you. Despite his monotoned features, his eyes sparkle with an adoration for you he couldn’t conceal if he wanted to.

He tries to, anyway.

“Bite me,” he grumbles with narrowed eyes.

Eddie huffs dramatically from beside you. The sound gets your attention — makes you turn your head to look at him again — which is all he really wanted to do, anyway.

“Stop flirting!” the boy grumbles, wide-eyed and chewing through his mouthful. “I’m sitting right here!”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Eddie Munson was never supposed to believe in love at first sight. That stuff was for children, chick flicks, and over-played ballads — not metalheads who’ve never been loved before and have had to improvise all their awkward tenderness accordingly.

But then he met you. And he didn’t love you then, but he knew something was different. Off. Metamorphosing, even.

It was different from love — whatever strange, foreign thing he was feeling way back when. It didn’t hurt nearly as much, and it didn’t feel like every single one of his atoms had been set ablaze. It was softer, warmer, a gentle familiarity in a stranger who just wanted to get high.

You sat down in front of him on that rotted park bench in the middle of the woods, and it felt like he was staring the rest of his life in the face. There was no falling head over heels like all the songs on the radio said there’d be, but rather an “Oh, hi, it’s you. I hope it’s always gonna be you.”

He feels that foreign, fluffy feeling in his chest even now as he stands on the shore in a pair of trunks you bought because you knew he’d forget his. He watches you wade into the cerulean sea with a lily sort of hesitance. You’re so much smaller than the wide-open, but he loves you so much you seem swallow it all whole anyway.

You’re a pretty little thing in a canary yellow bikini, sunshine incarnate. Your thighs are round and full. The pudge of your stomach is soft and tender. The scarred marks on your back and shoulders are like so many little kisses, each of which he longs to give you in return.

You possess an intimidating sort of beauty, one that Eddie found easier to admire from afar. You were entirely too captivating — warm and gentle like a summer rain dying to be danced in.

“Stop being such a baby!” Robin calls from further in the water. Her sandy-colored hair is a darker shade from the salty sea and pushed back over her forehead and ears.

Her chapped lips curl into a pink smile as she looks up at you. Not even she could hide her admiration for your fantastical, demoniacal beauty.

“The water’s not even that bad!” the girl continues in half-hearted taunts. “Just run in!”

“It’s cold!” you insist, shivering when a brutal breeze brushes by. You tense and tighten the grip you have on yourself. Your arms are crossed over your chest in a feeble shield that does little to protect you from the water nipping at your ankles.

Robin cackles at your wincing.

Eddie might’ve defended you if he wasn’t so lost in the eternal blue of you, more infinite than the water you stand in or the sky you idle beneath.

You look so soft in the golden sunlight, so diabolically angelic. Lithe, unholy, yet pure all the same. Built for sin but looking just like Heaven.

Eddie Munson wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He wasn’t even looking for it until it tripped him, ate him up, and spat him out. The universe does whatever the universe wants sometimes, he figures, and if you can’t laugh at their stupid jokes, then that’s on you.

“Holy shit…” Eddie mumbles as the realization pierces him like a dull needle between his ribcage. That searing, subtle feeling of being in love.

It’s frightening more than it is anything, really — the understanding that you’re diving into something that could ruin you, something you’re going to let ruin you. There’s nothing but a thin line between love and horror.

“Huh?” Steve hums with a cartoonishly scrunched nose and furrow to his brow.

He was the only one close enough to hear him. Everyone else was separate but still near, using every inch of their reserved space.

Nancy’s reading a book in one of the lounge chairs with El and Max sunbathing on towels close by. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are roughhousing in the water — no doubt irking Steve and his lifeguard-esque spidey senses. Robin, meanwhile, was still coaxing you inside.

Eddie’s head snaps in Steve’s direction. He squints through the wisps of gray smoke rising from the grill. “Huh?” he repeats like the idiot he is.

“You said something.” The brunette boy responds. Not a question, but a statement of fact.

“No, I wasn’t,” Eddie sasses back despite having been caught red-handed. He shrugs and crosses his pale arms over his chest. “I was just… I was just talking to myself.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause that’s not weird or anything.”

Eddie bites back a too-harsh jeer. He watches Steve flip a steaming burger on the tiny grill in front of him with a floundering sort of finesse. He scoffs out a laugh. “Making fun of me isn’t gonna compensate for you having absolutely no idea what you’re doing over there, you know?”

“How hard can it be?” Steve wonders, bouncing his shoulders and gesturing with the spatula in his hand. “They’re burgers. Just flip ‘em before the burn, and they’re golden— well, not golden, but… you get it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the boy’s blind optimism. Steve’s got all the trappings of a rich kid who never had a fend for yourself night where dinner was just chocolate milk, dry cereal, and pizza rolls. “I thought growing up in the suburbs, you would’ve perfected the art of grilling by now.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly have anyone around that often to teach me, so…”

Steve isn’t exactly playing the woe is me card. He’s just stating a fact that most everyone in Hawkins seems to know by now. It blows the wind out of Eddie’s sails, anyway.

It’s hard to understand sometimes that Steve’s got his own thing going on — his own secrets with his own trauma he keeps hidden from the rest of the world. Eddie spent his whole life thinking that if he was richer, or if his house was bigger, or if the kids at school liked him more, he might’ve been happier growing up.

Steve Harrington is living proof that that’s not always true.

Eddie walks a few steps closer to the grill. The smell of smoke and cooked meat pervade him instantaneously. He snatches the spatula from Steve’s hand, who’s too off guard to dodge him.

His frizzy curls bunch at his shoulders when he tilts his head to the side, flashing the brunette boy a sickly sweet smile. “Let the trailer trash show ya how it’s done, Stevie.”

“First of all, don’t call me that,” he retorts with a flat face, golden biceps crossed tight over the chest of his fitted tee. “And second of all, what the hell do you know about cooking?”

“When you grow up in a trailer park, you know how to make at least two things by the time you’re seven-years-old — pizza rolls in the oven and burgers on the grill.”

Steve’s honey eyes narrow. “I don’t trust you not to poison us, Munson.”

“What? You think I’m gonna poison a bunch of kids and my girlfriend? That’s, like, the lowest of the low,” Eddie defends with bubbly laughter sputtering from his mouth. He flips a smashed burger and lets it sizzle over the low flame before pointing the spatula in Steve’s direction. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eye. “But you, Harrington? You should definitely be worried.”

“…Girlfriend, huh?”

Eddie, visibly surprised by the lack of a comeback, glances over his shoulder at the boy. His fleetingly puzzled gaze gives way to a teasing pink grin. “Yeah… Jealous?”

It was a joke, but Steve starts to stutter over himself like he’s guilty of something. “What? No,” he argues between forced laughter. “Why would you— Why would you even say that?”

“‘Cause I actually had the balls to ask out the girl I like, and you’ve been ogling at Nancy for an hour trying to figure out how to talk to her without coming off like a total creep.”

“That’s not… I wasn’t doing that.”

Eddie shrugs. “Okay.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I said okay!”

“Jeez…” Steve concedes with a dramatic huff. “I have no idea what Peach sees in you, ya know?”

“Me neither, honestly,” Eddie confesses with a distant smile, grinning at the grill like he can see you in the wisps of thick smoke. “I always thought it was my strong arms and sparkling personality.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about! You can’t be serious about anything!”

“I can be serious about some things.”

“Yeah?” Steve muses with raised brows and a smile that says otherwise. “Like what?”

There’s a million stupid jokes Eddie could make just to piss him off all the more. He swallows them all down in place of something more real. “I don’t know… Peach is pretty cool, I guess… Don’t really wanna fuck that up…”

Steve nods, proud of the answer he wasn’t expecting. “Good. Don’t.”

“And what would you do if I did, tough guy?” Eddie jokes, narrowing his eyes at the boy beside him. “Beat me up?”

He answers without missing a beat. “Yeah.”

“You don’t exactly have the best track record for that. I’m pretty sure you’re on a world-record losing streak, actually.”

“I don’t have to win,” Steve assures with a strange sort of sternness to his words.

Eddie is visibly shocked by the sudden seriousness, wide-eyed and confused.

The brunette boy sighs before explaining. “That time I got into that stupid fight with Hargrove, it wasn’t about trying to beat him, you know? I was trying to— I don’t know— I was trying to… keep him from hurting the people I cared about, I guess.”

“Peach?” Eddie presses with furrowed brows.

Steve shoots him a dumbfounded look, confused by the confusion. “She didn’t tell you about that?”

“...No?”

“Then, uh… Never mind.”

Steve closes in on himself all over again — an impenetrable brick wall with abs and a chiseled jawline. Eddie feels so suddenly left out, like there was some secret everyone was in on but him. He abandons the grill entirely.

“Nope. No way. You have to tell me now.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit, Munson,” Steve scoffs, side-stepping the wild-haired boy and taking his place in front of the grill. The burgers are cooked through now, perfectly seared and smoky. He plates them all like he wasn’t on track to burning them. Eddie lets him do it.

“I swear to god, I will give you food poisoning on purpose, Harrington—”

“It’s not my story to tell, alright?” Steve interjects the half-hearted threat.

“Well, I mean, it sorta is because you were just about to tell it, so…”

The brunette grumbles something under his breath like a rolling storm cloud.

You and Robin watch the encounter from afar, both of you someways from shore. Now submerged to your shoulders in the sapphire water, you’re not nearly as cold as when you first stepped in. It feels as soft as silk now, sparkling around you like diamonds every time you kick your feet to keep yourself afloat.

A smile quirks at your mouth at the sight of the bantering boys — one you used to love and one you think you’ll love forever.

They’re complete and utter opposites of each other. One golden, one pale. One broad, one lean. One with trimmed honey locks that shine golden in the sun, and one with long curls so dark they seem to reject all light entirely.

They both wear deadpanned looks of utter annoyance on their features, having no idea how close they’re standing to each other.

“The sexual tension is ripe between those two,” you confess to Robin, though it’s mostly for yourself.

“Think they’re gonna kiss?” the brunette girl jokes as she blinks salt water from her eyes.

“I don’t know… They might…” you observe quietly, squinting in the distance in a feeble attempt to read their lips. The conversation seems heated — well, as heated as it gets between two boys who think they’re better off as enemies.

You long to understand what they’re saying and mourn the fact that you don’t.

“Bet I can get them to kiss by the end of the night, though,” you answer more finally and with a glint to your eye — a result of your looming mischief rather than the glittering sun above you.

“Please, don’t say it…” Robin grimaces.

“Truth or dare,” you singsong with a beaming grin.

The girl makes a pained sound at your words. She bubbles her freckled cheeks and squeezes her eyes shut tight. She ducks herself beneath the water in attempts to hide there, knowing there are some things you just can’t run from.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You hold onto your love for Eddie like so many flowers in your hand.

It’s a collection of wild things — honeyed daffodils, fluffy white daisies, and pretty pastel forget-me-nots. Their vivid green stems feel like stripes of hardened silk in your palm.

Maybe you’ll shape them into a crown later, place them on top of your lover’s wild curls the next time you see him. You hope that isn’t too long now.

Max was the one that wanted to go on a hike. Upon the other boys’ insistence of tagging along, she spat like venom in return — “No boys allowed.” And, quite frankly, none of you were in any position to deny Maxine Mayfield of anything.

Robin hadn’t even wanted to go until that moment. She complained she was too tired after a day in the water to spend an evening in the woods. The thought of making fun of Steve seemingly cured her.

“Yeah,” she lilted with a smile, voice raspy from hours of nonstop laughter. She slid a cap over her drying locks, leaving it backwards and lazy on her head. She bounced her brows and walked backwards behind the group of you. “Go on your own hike, Stevie.”

“We will!” Steve argued in return, like a child not easily left behind.

You can’t be sure of what they’re up to now. Nothing, maybe, or perhaps everything. You just hope Eddie’s missing you as much as you’re missing him — innocently, gently, childishly.

Maybe he’s seeing your face in the crystalline waves of the sea like you’re seeing his face in the satin petals of the flowers in your hand.

“Having fun?” you ask Max over the subtle crunch, crunch, crunch of grass and leaves and twigs beneath your feet.

The redhead’s eyes widen at the suddenness of your presence — or rather, how slow she’d been to register it. Noticing her languishing stride, she puts more pep in her step.

“Tons,” she huffs.

You become a silent observer of Max Mayfield for a moment. You blink at the girl beside you — with pretty red plaits down her back and pale shoulders peeking from her tank top — and try to make sense of her. It’s an impossible task.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” you confess with a quiet laugh.

“I’m not,” she affirms with her own scoffed-out chuckle. She tucks a rouge wisp of amber hair behind her ear and averts her gaze to her beat-up sneakers. “It’s… actually been kinda fun so far.”

With a blooming feeling of relief and slight accomplishment, you nod in response. “Good.”

“I just wish the boys weren’t here, though,” she admits with a distant girlishness, kicking a rock with the tip of her shoe. It clunk, clunk, clunks down the hill. She screws her freckled face. “They’re making it all… weird.”

“Weird how?” you press gently.

You don’t want to push her so hard she closes up again, but you don’t want to stay so quiet she thinks you don’t care. It’s tricky work, getting close to Max Mayfield — like digging through a brick wall with a plastic spoon.

“Weird as in… I don’t know— they’re making it something it’s not supposed to be, you know? Like, Dustin is cool, but that’s because his girlfriend just dumped him and everything,” the girl rambles with a shrug. She lifts her arm to duck beneath a low-hanging branch, scraping her calloused palm against the wood as she goes.

You’ll hear a low thud moments later when Robin smacks her forehead against it. She’d been too busy explaining how to tell the difference between poisonous and nonpoisonous mushrooms to Nancy and El — the former only half as enthused as the latter.

“El and Mike are always sneaking off to suck face, and Steve and Eddie keep ogling at you like they’ve never seen a girl before, and Lucas won’t stop asking me if something’s wrong, and—”

“He’s just trying to check up on you,” you interject gently, letting the wound-up girl take a much-needed breath.

“Yeah, well, it’s annoying,” she grumbles like a thundering rain cloud. “I’m trying to forget my problems, not talk about them.”

And, honestly, you think she might be onto something. Teenage girls are basically tiny pessimistic philosophers — your problems don’t exist if you don’t look at them, she tells you in essence. The logic is cynically sound to an unhealthy degree. It’s a poison apple you’ve plucked from the tree and eaten whole once.

“You gotta talk about them eventually, Max,” you tell her. Not because you have, but rather because you haven’t, and you’ve seen where that’s gotten you.

Max stops in her tracks. She turns ninety degrees to glare at you — arms crossed over her chest, bushy brows quirked like the right side of her lips. She looks bitterly amused at your words.

You cower beneath her icy blue stare. You know you’ve said the wrong thing.

“Oh, yeah? Like you’re talking about them, too?” she sasses with all her practiced teenaged apathy.

You falter. “Yeah, well… Don’t do what I do, alright? Do what I say.”

Max scoffs. It sounds almost like genuine laughter in its curtness, as though it were truly sincere. She shakes her head with a cynical smile. “Face it— we’re both hopeless…”

Her words leave you stunned, as though she’d pierced you with the poison tip of them. There’s an edge to them that cuts you and leaves you bleeding as she walks on without you. The wind brushes your exposed skin, a reminder that the world is still going even though it feels like it’s frozen still.

Robin and El walk by you a moment later. The former rubs her aching forehead over the brim of the cap on her head. The latter is elbow-deep in a drawstring bag looking for a bandaid to give her.

Nancy, either poetically or cruelly, is the one who notices the splintered ache you are.

She smiles with her pretty pink lips and blinks at you with her stone-blue eyes. She’s as pretty as she ever was — with her bare, sun-kissed face and oversized cardigan pushed up to her elbows. It’s hard to admonish someone who looks as sweet as she does.

Her attention alone is enough to heal you, like a dog licking a weeping wound. You hate her as much as you worship her. The loathing feels religious.

“Who are those for?” she questions innocently, motioning to the flowers in the limp hand hanging at your side.

“Oh, uh, they’re— they’re for Eddie,” you sputter in a mumble, suddenly aflame with embarrassment. You turn your red-hot cheeks away from her and look at everything but the girl in front of you. “It’s… It’s stupid…”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s sweet,” she disagrees, grinning so sincerely it scrunches the sloped bridge of her nose.

“I don’t know, I just… I felt a little bad about leaving him behind, so…”

“He did look a little like a sad puppy when we left,” Nancy confesses in a soft giggle.

You roll your eyes despite the lovesick smile on your face. “He always looks like that when he doesn’t get his way.”

“He really likes you. I can tell.”

Your heart lurches at her words.

“What the hell do you know about him?” is first fleeting thought that scorches your mind. “He isn’t yours. You don’t get to know him.”

The misplaced anger is raging crimson, vivid enough to taste. Or perhaps that’s just the metallic tang of your blood as you bite your tongue.

Your rage is engraved into your bones at this point.

It isn’t fair, not to either of you, so you swallow it down.

“You think so?” you wonder instead.

“Oh. Totally,” she scoffs like she’s never been surer of anything in her life.

Her sneakers scuff against the rough terrain of Lake Lemon as she starts walking again, towards the sound of trickling water. You follow behind her on instinct and watch her angled profile flit to the blue sky above you. Gray clouds start to gather in the distance, concealed by the green of towering trees.

“The way he looks at you… It’s really sweet.”

“Bet it makes you miss Jonathan, huh?”

“I always miss him,” she answers without missing a beat, though she seems so suddenly forlorn. “Even though I know I’m not really supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” you press with pinched brows.

She tilts her head and looks at you beneath her lashes. “We, um… We broke up, actually.”

“Oh. Shit,” you stutter, surprising even yourself because you hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. It makes you that much more embarrassed at yourself. “I— I’m sorry. I didn’t— shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” Nancy assures kindly, giggling and bringing you at ease again. She smiles so softly, like she isn’t hurt by it all — by what you’ve said or what she left behind in Jonathan.

You squint at her with a question on your tongue. How can you seem so happy after having lost a piece of yourself? you want so desperately to ask. How has that not ruined you entirely?

She sighs, still with a reminiscent smile. “I haven’t really… you know, talked about it, so…”

“Are you…” you start, but trail off again. Your head whips from her to the rocky trail you descend down, trying to keep focused without tripping over yourself in front of her. God knows you’ve done that enough for a lifetime. “Are you okay?”

Nancy thinks on your words more than you expected her to. “Uh, yeah. I think so. I mean— I guess that’s what this trip is about, you know? Trying to be okay again.”

You nod in response. You figure that’s why you ultimately asked Max to tag along in the first place, and why her friends had decided to join — those heartbroken and otherwise.

“Sorry about that, by the way,” Nancy follows quickly with wet eyes and pinched-together brows. She’s waiting for you to condemn her, though you’re not entirely sure why.

“For… what?”

“You know, not telling you I was coming and… everything.”

You wonder if she truly does mean everything or if it’s just a figure of speech. Nancy has a world of things to say sorry to you for — she knows this, most barbarically so.

“Steve told me it was normally a him, you, and Robin thing. He said you wouldn’t be upset about it or anything, but I feel like… I don’t know… like I’ve intruded or something?”

“No,” you assure almost instantly because you know what non-belonging feels like. You don’t want it to eat away at her like it did you. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” the girl presses with a twinkle in her eye.

“Totally.”

She exhales a sharp chuckle through her nose. It’s almost a sigh of relief — like your words have removed a hulking weight from her bony chest. “I was so scared things were gonna be…”

“Weird?” you finish for her when she trails off.

Her sheepish smile matches your own. She nods. “Yeah.”

“That was forever ago,” you shrug, repeating the words you’ve been telling yourself for ages now. It made everything much easier to stomach. You found it much safer not to feel any of it at all — to keep the hurt from touching you entirely.

Nancy nods. Her words leave her mouth, soft like a song and kissed by sorrow. “I know, but… Things were…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to.

You were there for all of it. Most of the bloodshed was yours in the end.

“Yeah,” you huff so deeply it deflates your tightening chest.

“It was all just bullshit, you know?” Nancy says, shaking her head like she’s detested by the memory. “Steve shouldn’t have done what he did, but… It wasn’t like I was raring to stop him.”

“It wasn’t your job. You didn’t know me— you never had to… defend me or whatever.”

“I know, but… I think maybe I should have.”

The two of you stop in place and share a look of distant longing. Not the kind you often give Eddie — not the kind full of puppy love — but rather one of acute understanding.

She didn’t know you, and you didn’t know her. You thought it was better off that way. Her presence was so often forced against your will. Like Pavlov’s Dog, you knew she only ever came with your inevitable heartache. Steve drifted to her like she had her own gravitational pull. He only came back to you when she was gone.

Jaded by heartache, you learned to hate her. The wrath ate away at you accordingly. And here she was — all your anger in the flesh — extending an olive branch and trying to make you whole again.

“Whoa…” you hear Robin croon lowly in the distance.

Your attention leaves the piercing moment and darts over to her. She stands between El and Max in front of a leaning willow. She parts the weeping leaves with the palm of her hand and marvels at something further in the juniper you can’t see.

You give Nancy a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes — too weighed down by the heavy moment — but it isn’t any less sincere. You walk away from her and towards the three others. It takes her a moment or more to follow you.

Past the swaying willow is a shrouded cove. The clear water is kissed by streams of sunlight poking through the fluttering leaves. It possesses a hearty smell of rain and wet grass, the very breath of spring.

It’s a corner of the world that feels so pure, so untouched by the rest of the world. You can hear words hidden in the rippling water — “Swim with me,” it calls to you. “Let me cleanse you. Let me save you.”

“Sweet…” Max hums to herself, apathetic as ever, though utterly unable to tear her eyes from the sight before her.

El nods, similarly mesmerized. “Yeah. Sweet.”

Robin turns to you, smirking all cool in her backwards cap and baggy jeans and thumped forehead. She bounces her brows and beams. “Bet the boys haven’t found anything this cool.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

“Hey, look!” Dustin shouts to the others, eyes squinted with the intensity of his grin. He holds up a shining red rock, made smooth from the water rolling over his feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s a gemstone! Like, a ruby or something!”

He’s met with several unenthused gazes from the rest of the boys on shore.

Mike squints at him from where he sits next to Lucas in the sand, both of them equally mopey without their girls to bring them back to life. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s just a rock,” the raven-haired boy monotones.

Dustin’s smile washes away like the ebbing tide at his ankles. He looks back at the weighty thing in his hand and realizes that he doesn’t actually know the difference. “Oh…”

“What do you think the girls are doing right now?” Lucas wonders aloud. He can’t go more than five minutes without bringing them up, which Dustin has bitterly observed a number of times.

He’s more worried about Max than anything, about her eagerness to get away from the boys — from him. He doesn’t know what he could’ve done so wrong to make her pull away like she has. His chest aches with the uncertainty.

“Talking about us, probably,” Mike answers.

“That’s a little sexist, Mike,” Dustin scolds as he walks back on shore, kicking up white sand behind him as he goes.

“What do you think they’re doing then?”

“Talking about you,” the curly-haired boy retorts with narrowed eyes. “‘Cause you’re a dick.”

Mike squints an eye as he looks up at him, shielding his vision from the white sun. He flips the boy off with a pale, bony finger.

Eddie watches from a distance. He stands beside Steve in front of the bubbling white waves, though it’s not really by choice. He’d much rather be standing next to you. He searches for you in the pearly waves and weeps because nothing compares to the real thing.

“Well, why don’t we just find out?” he offers with a shrug and a lopsided grin.

“Uh, because they said no boys allowed,” Steve answers like it’s obvious.

Eddie meets the boy’s furrowed brows with jettisoned ones hidden behind curly bangs. “…Okay?”

“And, I don’t know— I kinda don’t wanna get my face ripped off.”

“And what would poor Steve Harrington do without his pretty little face?” the wild-haired boy singsongs in response, face scrunched in feigned sympathy.

Steve squints. “You know what? Please, leave. I encourage it, actually.”

Eddie grins wide and tilts his head to his shoulder. He blinks at the boy beside him with glittering chocolate eyes that match the frizzy curls billowing in the breeze. “But then who would I annoy?”

“I don’t know. Your girlfriend, maybe,” Steve responds in a monotone, grunting softly as he bends down to pick up a handful of rocks from shore. He flicks his wrist to skip them across the water. It becomes quickly apparent that he’s never done it before. Each pebble plops hopelessly into the salty sea. “Anyone but me, preferably.”

“But you can’t break up with me, so… that’s an obvious bonus.”

“Jesus Christ…” Steve mumbles within an annoyed exhale. “You are the most insufferable person on the planet, you know that, right?”

“Tell me what happened with Billy, and I’ll leave,” Eddie challenges with narrowed eyes.

It’s too good a proposition not to give any thought to. Steve thinks about it for a beat, then shakes his head and turns away. “Yeah, no,” he concludes, skipping another rock that sinks to the bottom almost immediately.

“Why?”

“’Cause you annoying the shit outta me now is nothing compared to what Peach’ll do if she finds out I told you.”

“And what’s that?”

Steve shrugs. “…Be mad at me?”

Eddie scoffs and crosses his pale arms over his chest. “And that would just be… inconceivable, right?”

“I spent enough time pissing her off.”

“What’d you even do, anyway? Or is that another secret everyone seems to know but me?”

Steve shoots him another bitter side-eye. He tosses out another pebble. It bounces on the water once and then disappears beneath the surface. “I think these are questions for your girlfriend, Munson.”

“No, these are questions for bros, Harrington,” Eddie jokes, shoving the boy on his shoulder. His touch is more aggressive than he realizes and it makes the disgruntled brunette stumble slightly to the side. “Isn’t this the sort of things bros talk about?”

“Oh, my god…” Steve mutters to himself, shaking his head and wondering how he got here. What was supposed to be a trip with you and Robin has turned into him babysitting with Eddie fucking Munson.

“Am I not bro enough for you, Harrington?”

“That word has lost all meaning now—”

“C’mon, just tell me, man,” Eddie pleads with a newfound seriousness. “Every time I almost get something outta her, she just— she clams up, you know? I love her and everything, but fuck— it feels like she only lets me know her so much. It’s agony sometimes, dude.”

Steve doesn’t mean to, but he melts.

Maybe it’s the foreign emotion he’s getting from the local freak, or maybe it’s the confession that’s unknowingly slipped from his lips.

He sighs. Then shrugs. “It was a long time ago. And I was a douchebag.”

Eddie snorts. “Figures.”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” Steve bites.

Eddie curls his lips around his teeth, puts his mouth in a tight line, and stays silent.

The brunette boy continues. “I liked her and everything, but I also liked Nancy, you know? I really liked Nancy. I mean, Peach was a lotta fun, but Nance— she was the kinda girl you wanted to settle down with.”

Eddie feels his chest tighten, and the confession’s only just started.

You were fun. The most fun he’s had in his life. He’d kill to settle down with you, to have an entire future of fun. There was never any but with you — I love you, but it’d be a bad look to settle down with the town slut. Eddie wants all of you, the good and what everyone else has collectively decided is “bad.”

He loves the sound of your laughter as much as he loves the sound of your moans.

He wants a lifetime full of both.

“—So every time Nancy broke up with me, I’d go back to Peach. And I wouldn’t tell her about… about any of it. You know, that I still wanted to be with Nancy and everything. And that’s… I think that’s the worst part about it. ‘Cause she thought there was a chance we would get together, you know? And I wanted her to think that, ‘cause I wanted her to always be there when I was— when I needed her…”

Steve squints off into the blue — where the darker-colored water meets a lighter-colored sky. The white sun casts harsh shadows on his already chiseled features. His face scrunches into something sharper, whetted edges of held-back emotion.

“A part of me knew the only reason Peach stuck around was because she thought I’d finally come to my senses and ask her out, you know? But I was… so far gone for Nancy back then it’s not even funny,” the boy confesses. He exhales a curt, cynical chuckle from his nose and shakes his head at himself.

“I knew I was gonna keep chasing after Nance, but I couldn’t let Peach know that because I didn’t wanna be... I don’t know… alone, I guess? I needed someone to go to when my heart got broken., you know? But when I went back to Nancy— over and over and over again— it’s like… where’d Peach go? Who did— Who did she have to turn to, you know?”

Silence rolls in like the whispering breeze. It settles heavy like the gray rain clouds on the horizon.

Steve sighs like a strangling hand has finally let go of his throat. Like he can finally breathe again after saying all that out loud for the first time. Beside Eddie, the boy stands golden, grieving, and utterly changed. Steve towers over his old self in the memories he wishes he could get rid of and mourns the people he can’t un-hurt.

And it fucking sucks.

What he did to you sucks. The person he used to be sucks. And it sucks that he’s changed too much to hate now. Where is Eddie supposed to put all the anger simmering in his chest and scratching at the back of his throat?

“And, yeah,” Steve suddenly concludes, flicking his wrist to toss another rock out to sea that’ll never see the light of day again. “That went on for a while until she got with Hargrove, which was… a total fucking train wreck.”

Eddie doesn’t know how to respond, so he just laughs — a short, sharp, and scoffing breath.

“Wow,” he muses with his brows raised and hidden beneath his bangs. He shakes his head in complete and utter bemusement as he looks over at Steve, eyelids as heavy as the forced smile on his face. “You guys are fucking assholes, you know that?”

Steve exhales sharply from his nose in place of a laugh. He shakes his head in agreement anyway. “Believe it or not— people can change, Munson.”

The wild-haired boy squints. “Really?”

“I did. Peach did,” he answers with a shrug, then averts his gaze entirely to mumble, “You did, too, I guess…”

The half-heartedly grumbled phrase feels almost like a compliment — more so when it’s spilling from the mouth of someone he used to hate but has grown to sort of tolerate on handpicked occasions.

It’s great beauty, to grow and shift and become the person you were also meant to be. And what praise it is to be seen in your becoming.

From a brief distance, they hear a soft and relieved “Fucking finally,” spill from Dustin’s mouth.

Eddie turns and finds you coming down from the trail. Well, you and the rest of the girls you ditched him for, but all he can really see is you.

He’d missed you in a way he knows he shouldn’t have. Not just because you were only gone for one measly hour, but because that one measly hour ate away at him as though it were eons.

He knows he shouldn’t miss you so hard, but sometimes the absence feels strangely fulfilling. It’s a reminder that you’re real and not some dream he made up in his head. A reminder that he’ll meet you again because you’ll always come back to him.

“Have fun?” you ask when he’s close enough to hear you. You’ve got one eye squinted to shield from the sun and also to conceal the beam threatening to take over your features.

“Oh. Tons,” Eddie scoffs in a deadpan. “Didn’t even miss you.”

“No?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Well, I didn’t miss you either,” you confess in a similar lilt and with a similar grin that drips with honeyed adoration. “’S why I spent the whole time picking these flowers for you.”

You shrug and hold out your left hand, where a bushel of tiny flowers rests softly against the edge of your palm. It’s a mixture of vivid colors — of greens, blues, purples, and yellows. They’re wild and beautiful and drenched in sun. A whole lot like the love he has for you.

The dull ache of his broken heart sears with warmth when you put it back together again.

Eddie’s toes dig into the sand as he fills the short distance between you. He curls his fingers around your elbows, takes you in his arms, and feels whole again. With a rosy smile and sparkling chocolate eyes, he groans, “Oh, god, I hate you so much…”

Your cheeks hurt with how large your grin has grown, with how hard you try to hide it. It’s not nearly as painful as the adoration burning wildfires behind your ribcage. “I hate you more, Eddie Spaghetti.”

There’s no need to admit you’re only joking.

The words are so obviously playful.

And both of you know what they really mean, anyway.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The heavenly cadence of spring rain sings a wild song on the old tin roof.

It began first as a few gentle taps, a sparse sprinkle that tricks your brain into thinking it’s not really there at all. Then the greying clouds gave way to darker, more ponderous ones. The soft drizzle became a roaring rain that fell all together, all at once.

A foggy grey covers the cabin and lulls its inhabitants to sleep. Swim-tired, sunkissed, and energy-spent — you all return to a sweeter sort of peace. The sudden exhaustion feels like rose petals. It’s gentle, pure, and liquid smooth.

Robin clocks out first, and in record time. She stomps in from outside, terribly sunburnt and complaining relentlessly — before and after a cold shower. She shoves a burger in her face and passes out on the couch soon after.

Steve makes fun of her for it, but he goes right after her. He lays opposite her on the small couch, both of them fighting for room, even in their sleep.

Nancy went a lot more quietly, and only after the millionth time you assured her that she was more than welcome to take the bed. “It’s not like Robin has any plans of sleeping upstairs right now,” you joked, nodding your head over to the brunette girl who had her chin tilted backward and her mouth wide open.

You can’t be entirely sure what the kids are up to now, but they’ve all returned to the bunk room. It’s quiet, but not suspiciously so. You figure they’re all either sleeping or fighting it, so you decide to give them privacy while you sit alone in the kitchen — waiting for Eddie’s shower to end and for Hopper to get off the phone with you.

“Having fun?” the man wonders politely.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, cheek propped lazily against your fist as you lean over the granite countertop. You’re too heavy with fatigue to do anything else. Your legs are sore and your skin is sun-drenched. Slumber all but sings your name like a siren out at sea.

“What about El? She doing okay?”

“Yep.”

“You’re watching her and Mike, right? You’re not letting them go off alone?”

“Yes, Hopper,” you singsong in an impatient-sounding sigh.

The man huffs out a laugh that crackles from the other line. “You sound like you don’t wanna talk to me, teacup.”

“I’m sorry. ‘M just tired. Running after kids all day is exhausting,” you confess in a series of barely intelligible mumbles.

“Exactly. That’s why you wear protection—”

“Hopper!”

“I’m just saying!” Jim defends between a bout of gruff laughter. “I don’t want you coming back from this trip and having a mini-Munson nine months later, alright? That’s all I’m saying.”

You have a hard time placing his intention — if he’s truly being protective or if he’s just making fun of you. He’s more than aware of Eddie’s secret, after all, so you coming home with a mini-Munson is virtually impossible. But, then again, no-parents-empty-cabin surely has its own lewd history.

You figure it’s a healthy mixture of both, and decide to take the piss out of him, too.

“Oh, trust me, lurch. There’s gonna be a million mini-Munsons when I get back. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time, huh?” you argue with squinted eyes and a sudden fire behind your sunkissed lassitude. “Please ignore the sounds of moaning and squeaking, by the way.”

A beat of utter silence passes.

The other line is perfectly mute. You can’t even hear his breathing.

“…That’s not funny,” Hopper grouses in a monotone.

“I’m not laughing,” you retort, giggling anyway. You couldn’t hide them if you tried. Fuck, you miss annoying this man in person.

You collect yourself with a sigh and continue. “Believe it or not, I’m perfectly abstinent, okay? I’m not some kinda fiend that… You know what— I don’t want to talk about this with you, actually.”

Hopper exhales a sigh of relief when you cut yourself off. “Good. I checked out of this conversation about a minute ago.”

“I’m good. El’s good. Everyone’s currently sleeping, so… Thanks for checking in, lurch.”

“Remind me to ask for Harrington next time I call.”

“Will do.”

You hang up the phone with a smile and a plan to trek upstairs and tell Eddie all about it. You’ll sit on the bathroom counter and laugh about it with him while he finishes up his shower. You’ll leave out the million Munsons part, of course, because you don’t want him to think you’re a total weirdo.

Eddie finds you first.

“Mini Munsons, huh?” you hear the boy chuckle behind you.

Your heart lurches against your ribcage at his sudden arrival. You spin around to face him, features wide and gaping as you figure out how to worm your way out of this one. “I was— I was just kidding. Hopper was being annoying, you know? So I was… I was just fucking around with him…”

Eddie meets your wild-eyed shock with a much cooler, pink smile. It’s lopsided and wide and beautiful. Leaning against the wall, he bounces his shoulder and juts out his lip. “Well, I know that’s your favorite pastime, so… I guess I won’t hold it against you.”

You know he’s joking, but you exhale the breath you were holding in relief anyway. “Thank you…”

He walks the short distance to meet you. His bare feet pad against the kitchen tile until he’s close enough to wrap you in his arms. He carries the smell of your body wash with him — a warm, floral, and sweet scent. His hair is damp and pulled back out of his face, dripping onto the neck of his t-shirt.

His palms are wide and lotion-soft as they smooth up your forearms. “Uh… Everyone’s asleep now, I think, so… You wanna go talk?”

He looks at you so sweet, you’re almost certain it’s code for something. Not sex, maybe, but something almost as gratifying. It’s Eddie — he kisses you stupid like he was made to do it. You’re more than happy to make out like teenagers until the rest of the cabin starts to stir again.

“Sure, I do,” you answer with a shrug, trying to keep an air of nonchalance about you even though you’re beaming up at him like schoolgirl — some innocent being that’s never been hurt before.

You let him lead you up the spiral staircase with that same giddy grin. You barely let him shut the door behind you before you’re pushing him against it.

You hear him gasp quietly when your arms wrap suddenly around his neck. He’s tense when your body presses against his, like hugging a mountain’s edge. It takes him a moment or more to respond when you start kissing the breath from his lungs.

He finally relaxes with a soft exhale that fans against your cupid’s bow. His idling hands settle over your hips, fingers threatening to crawl beneath your cropped shirt when it rises to reveal a sliver of your skin. You’d kill for him to touch you further, but his touch stays perfectly still. You’re just glad he’s holding you at all.

He tastes like nicotine, soda, and summertime — clean, boyish, and nostalgic. Your tongue swipes gently over his plush bottom lip for more. You expect him to open up further for you, to let you explore the mouth you already know like the back of your hand. You’re heartbroken when he pulls away from you entirely, missing him the second he’s gone.

Eddie’s grieving in a similar way. It’s hard for him to part from you when you kiss him like no person on earth has ever been kissed.

He breathes out a soft laugh as he peers down at you. He grins crookedly with his freshly swollen lips. “Not that I’m not enjoying this or anything, sweetheart, but when I said talk, I really did mean talk…”

Your blood runs red-hot. “Oh…” you sigh like an idiot because you can’t think of anything else to say. You feel like a total fool — spent ages denying the slut stereotype just to jump someone’s bones the second you got them alone. Maybe they were right about you.

Eddie sees you second-guessing everything, watches you form a long-winded apology inside your head. He follows up quickly to quell your worry. “No, it’s okay— it’s kinda my bad, actually. I guess I should’ve clarified.”

You muster a trembling smile when you step back from him. You’re cold the second he’s gone. You have to fight back the shiver that crawls up your spine. “Well, you did say talk, so…”

“Yeah, but how often do I say things I actually mean?”

“Sometimes,” you answer sheepishly, gazing at him from beneath your lashes in a sincere response to his half-joke. “I hope…”

I hope you meant it when you said you liked me, is what you’re really trying to say. I hope you meant all the nice things you’ve said about me, ‘cause I don’t think I could handle them never being real.

He seems to hear everything you don’t say.

His rosy lips tug into a slow smile as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “Well… maybe when it comes to you, sweetheart.”

Your girlish smile returns to you — wide, innocent, unhurt. You like feeling this special. You like Eddie belonging to you in a way he doesn’t to anybody else. It’s a primal sort of possession, a borderline unhealthy one for someone who loves like it’s breathing.

“What did you wanna talk about then?” you wonder, then scrunch your nose with a distant wariness. “It kinda seems serious now.”

“No,” Eddie scoffs, walking away from you and towards the bed. “Not serious.”

The mattress squeaks under his weight when he flops down onto it. You want to scold him for being so rough with an obviously aged thing that doesn’t belong to him. You’re already gravitating towards him with an unrealized smile on your face.

You sit down beside him, far more gently than he had. You settle on top of the fluffy comforter and curl your legs behind you. Eddie lays on his side, propping his head up with one hand and using the other to trace the faded scars and beauty marks on your thigh.

His finger trails absentmindedly over your skin in a featherlight touch. Chills erupt over your skin, and he smiles to himself. You’re still learning how to be touched so delicately.

“Spit it out, Eds. The tension’s killing me,” you laugh with words you’ll regret a second later.

“I don’t know… I just— I wanted to ask why you never told me about Steve,” the boy says with a nonchalant shrug, like the words don’t suck all the breath from your lungs. He’s too busy watching his finger dance across your skin to see the shock flood your features. “Like, I knew you guys had— a thing or whatever. But I didn’t know… you know, the rest of it.”

Despite being unable to breathe, you try to muster a laugh. “This sounds like a pretty serious topic, Eds.”

His wide-eyed gaze matches your own. His stare darts upward to meet yours. The chocolate of his irises are full with brooding. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Actually, he spent his entire showering thinking of ways to bring this up that would be the least painful for the both of you. But in true Eddie Munson fashion, he can’t ever say the right thing.

“No! No, it— it doesn’t have to be. I was just… It was just a question, you know?” he sputters hopelessly. He glances away and mumbles to himself, “A really dumb, stupid question…”

Despite the overwhelming urge to find the deepest, darkest hole and hide there, you can’t tear your eyes away from the boy in front of you. You’re not really looking at him, though, much too deep in your own head about the whole thing.

You can’t stop thinking about what he must’ve heard — how he felt when he heard it. Did he think of you differently? Even for a fraction of a second, was he embarrassed at the very thought of you?

“Are you saying that… Steve told you about… all of it?” you ask slowly, terrified of the answer.

“Uh, yeah…” Eddie hesitates, equally as apprehensive. “Honestly, I think we were going a little insane with the girls around…”

He exhales sharply through his nose in place of a laugh and flashes a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It ebbs away a moment later.

“Why would he do that?” you wonder with wide, wet eyes. The question is more for yourself than anything. You can’t begin to understand why Steve would’ve opened up about such a thing — to Eddie, of all people. Your Eddie.

“I asked him about Billy—”

“What do you know about Billy?”

“Well, he brought it up, but—”

“So you spent the entire time talking about me?” The laugh that spills from your mouth is bitter, cruel.

Eddie, who’s never known you to be either, chuckles emotionlessly back. “Well… No. It just— It just came up, I guess.”

You smile despite the emotion swimming in your glassy eyes. It makes the boy cower inside himself, unsure which contrasting reaction to pay the most attention to. “My relationship with Steve and Billy just… came up?”

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal, babe—”

“It’s not a big deal because they weren’t your exes,” you bite like a snarling dog. “If I spent the entire time talking about you, you wouldn’t be too happy about it either, would you?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “I didn’t come up? Not one time?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. The volume of your answer and its blurted sincerity take him by surprise. You wave your hands wildly as you ramble. “I told Nancy that I missed you and that I couldn’t wait to see you and give you a bunch of stupid flowers—”

You motion to the makeshift bouquet sitting on the nightstand. They idle in a clear shot glass Eddie found in one of the cabinets. He couldn’t stand not giving them a home.

“—While you were off with Steve, talking about everyone that’s fucked me over!”

Your rage is as wild as it is brutal. You’re painted red from the slaughter you’ve been forced through. It’s given you claws and teeth accordingly.

Like a stray dog that bites the gentle hand trying to feed it, you’ve been so obviously mistreated. Eddie knew that before he knew you — ‘cause he’s got eyes, as well as a bleeding heart. Someone didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved, and now the memory turns you cruel.

“It wasn’t like that, okay?” Eddie presses with an urgency you can feel on his hand curling intently around your calf. His fingers tremble with sincerity. His dark eyes swim with it, too. “I just— I wanted to learn more about you because you never tell me anything!”

“Yes, I do!” you scoff.

“Then why do you never talk about Billy?”

“Why do you care so much about Billy?” you cry with a broad, disbelieving smile. “Why do I need to talk about him? He doesn’t even matter— he doesn’t even exist anymore!”

“Because something obviously happened! And if that thing is bothering you, I wanna be able to make it better!”

“That’s what therapists are for, Eddie. Not boyfriends.”

“Yeah, not any that you ever had,” he scoffs to himself before he can stop it.

You tense beneath his hand. He deflates with a sigh — squeezing his eyes shut and asking himself how the hell he manages to make the bad shit that much worse.

“Sorry. I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t bring any of this up to hurt your feelings, alright? I just wanted to— I don’t know— I just wanted to talk about it, okay? That’s all.”

You can tell he’s being sincere. That he really did just want to talk about it, and that he really is worried about you, and that he really does want to make it all better. He wears it all over his face. His features are soft and blurred and utterly genuine.

You haven’t yet softened your sharp, whetted edges. “You said we didn’t have to. That this trip was supposed to be fun.”

He flinches at the way you spit the words at him. They’re coated in vinegar, venom. It sinks into his skin and maims him accordingly. His bushy brows furrow, the corners of his mouth turn downward, and his eyes go glassy — a sad puppy indeed.

“You’re not having fun?” he wonders in a wounded whisper.

His hurt becomes your own. It only makes your anger tower mountains over you. “Not anymore,” you answer lowly and through a tense jaw.

Eddie’s spent a lifetime screwing things up. He’s spent a lifetime apologizing for them, too. This one aches worse than all the others combined. “I’m sorry…” he mutters quietly.

You’ve never seen him this somber. This sad.

The broken look of your lover’s heartache cracks the hardened porcelain you’re made of. You let out the breath you were holding in a trembling, heavy sigh. “No, don’t— Don’t apologize.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t have brought it up…” he confesses with his gaze cast downward.

You bring a hand to the one idling on your leg. You rest your soft palm over his bony knuckles. Your touch is much warmer than the iceberg you were just minutes ago.

“It’s okay. You were just curious. I shouldn’t have blown up the way I did,” you concede. The softness he’s more familiar with finally returns to you. The corner of your lip quirks into a wavering half-smile as you joke, “But if you want the entire list of guys that have fucked me over, it’s a really— it’s really fucking long one.”

You laugh quietly at your joke.

But Eddie knows it’s not really a joke, so he stays unsmiling.

His touch is still soft, though. He takes to rubbing your calf again — a slow and measured up and down — a reminder that he’s still in your corner. “Well, you can tell me about it when you’re ready.”

“What if I’m not?” you wonder, hesitant and testing the waters. “Like… What if I don’t want you to know all that stuff?”

Eddie’s gaze flits away from yours as he ponders the question. He purses his lips to the side and nods to himself, visibly deep in thought. “Then I’m good with not knowing,” he answers after a few, long moments.

“Are you?”

Again, he thinks.

“Not really. No,” he responds, still as honest as he’s always been with you. He grins lopsidedly and bounces his shoulder. “But if it means I get to keep you, then… Yeah.”

You exhale a breathy laugh at his words.

Eddie’s wavering smile breaks out in a sheepish beam at the sight of your more genuine grin.

“Can I have a kiss?” he whispers to you, as innocent and mousy as a child.

Your hand gives his a reassuring squeeze. “You never have to ask, Eds…” you remind him.

You lean down to press your mouth against his. He tilts his chin to meet you halfway. It’s chaste and lingering — a delicate peck that expresses all the swirling emotions neither of you could name if you tried.

“There isn’t anything about you that I wouldn’t want to know,” Eddie confesses after he’s pulled away from you. The breath of his words fan across your cheek, he’s still so close to you. His deep galaxy eyes dance between both of yours. “You know that, right?”

A smile tugs slow at your mouth. “Now, I do,” you nod in return, even though you’re not sure if you believe him.

He only says that because he doesn’t know you — the deep, dark you that you try to keep hidden from yourself and the rest of the world. He’d learn everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve done, and he’d hate you. He wouldn’t be able to look at you the same.

You can’t stand the thought of Eddie looking at you the way the rest of Hawkins does — with eyes squinted and twinkling with an admiral sort of disgust. So you’d rather him not know any of it at all.

Silence dances into the room as effortlessly as a spring breeze. The rain’s offbeat cadence taps hard against the sliding glass door across the room. You have the sudden urge to walk outside and stand it. You think it’d be easier to drown in the warm deluge than in your own thoughts.

Eddie’s rosy mouth turns slightly upward. Yours does, too, in anticipation of what he’s about to tell you.

“Wanna fool around?” he wonders, if only to brighten the heavy grey mood.

The sound of your laughter is sunshine — a metaphor he’s been trying to write for years. “You can’t just say that every time we’re alone, Eds!”

“Why not?” he challenges just to tease you.

“Because you know we can’t,” you answer with a soft sort of sternness about you. Your eyes are firm with sincerity, though they sparkle with mischief.

“We’ve been here almost two days, and I haven’t got one whiff of Jason Voorhees, babe.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you mutter, then whisper more quietly. “There’s people downstairs.”

“Well, you can be quiet…” Eddie lilts, grin lopsided and pink as he rises off the mattress to lean closer to you. His breath fans across your chin, coated with nicotine and something sugary. He tilts his wild head to the side and raises his brows in question. “Can’t you?”

“I’m not sure that you can, Eds.”

“Don’t worry about me,” the boy assures, voice low and suddenly serious.

His warm palm travels up your calf, smoothing over your knee and curling around the side of your thigh. His touch is almost as all-consuming as his stare — deep chocolate brown, as infinite as a galaxy. You fall into them accordingly. You couldn’t deny him if you wanted to.

You try, anyway.

“Eddie…” you start, a warning that trails off when he squeezes the buzzing skin of your outer thigh.

“Lay down,” he urges. It’s too soft to be a genuine command. It gives him ample opportunity to turn it all into a joke on the off chance you reject him completely.

You don’t. You couldn’t.

You find yourself slithering past him and closer to the headboard before you realize you’re doing it. It’s like you’re made of magic, totally under whatever spell he’s unknowingly cast upon you. Your head’s swimming with his sorcery as you lie back on the pillows.

Eddie follows you, resting his body above yours. It’s a comfortable sort of weight, heavenly even. He props himself up on his forearms so he isn’t crushing you completely, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

You want him to ruin you, and then you want to thank him for it.

The untrimmed edges of his curls hang down over his face. They tickle your jaw when he kisses you with the ardency of someone who wants to swallow you whole. His tongue swipes against yours, slow and more aggressive than either of you expect. He sucks on your swelling bottom lip right after.

The gray world around you explodes with a burst of a thousand colors. You can’t see any of them because the inner workings of your mind have been stripped away and replaced totally with Eddie. His nose nudging against yours. The taste of his mouth. The texture of his tongue. The warmth of his breath. His hand traveling down down down your body.

His palm starts at your cheek, cupping sweetly at your jaw so he can open your mouth wider for him. Then his touch trails down to your neck, taking a brief pitstop to feel the rapid thrum of your racing pulse, before falling to your chest.

You think he must be able to feel your pounding heart through your t-shirt when he cups your breast. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple in time with his tongue diving deep into your mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smile when the combined efforts make you shiver.

His fingers smooth over your ribcage, then your stomach, and then your hips.

It’s a touch featherlight, yet steady and earnest at the same time. His hand creeps slowly over the thin fabric of your shorts and settles between the warmth radiating between your thighs. He cups you gently through your clothes and kisses the breath from your lungs. It’s like he’s trying to kill you.

You buck your hips slightly upward in a silent plea for more.

The boy above you has the nerve to pull away from you to ask, “This okay?”

His hair is mussed from where your fingers had entwined so intensely in his chestnut strands. His lips are rosy and swollen and wild. You get lost looking at him.

With dazed eyes trained on the pink mouth you so desperately want to kiss again, you nod like an enthusiastic child.

“Can I do more?” Eddie wonders through heavy breaths.

“Please,” you hear yourself say, right before your hips cant against the subtle weight of his palm.

You watch with wide, unblinking eyes as Eddie brings his hand to his mouth. His pink tongue darts out to lick the pads of his middle and forefinger, leaving them glistening as he slithers them into your shorts.

His efforts to be easy with you are appreciated but virtually unnecessary. You’re as slippery as satin for him, drooling in anticipation for him to make you feel good.

He slides two fingers into your trembling pussy with little effort. The fatty edge of his palm settles over your swelling clit. Your head tilts back against the pillow while you exhale a pretty moan.

With your eyes fluttered shut, you don’t see the crooked grin tugging slow at Eddie’s mouth. “Shh…” he shushes, only half playful, before engulfing your mouth again and swallowing each of your gentle cries.

He’s moaning with you, though, at the soft squelch your pussy makes when his fingers sink to the knuckle inside you. You feel the smooth metal of his rings on the outside of your cunt and the inside of your thighs.

And fuck, you’re so pretty for him — always so pretty for him — that it makes him forget about the ache of his stiffening cock. His yearning for you throbs like a heartbeat. He wants so desperately to fuck you, to really fuck you until he’s got you gushing all over his lap. But he figures he can settle for this for now.

But the way you’re moaning for him just now? It doesn’t really feel like settling.

“You’re so pretty,” he hums lowly, almost to himself. “Have I told you that?”

He has. Plenty of times within the few months he’s been able to do that without it being too weird. It feels like the first time he’s ever said it to you, anyway.

A breathy moan spills lightly from your lips, like a spring breeze coated in sunshine. It’s the total opposite of the storm swirling outside the bedroom.

Your cunt involuntarily squeezes his fingers at the compliment — walls sticky, hot, and pulsing. You all but melt around the two digits he presses inside you.

He figures you must like the praise, which is great ‘cause praising you is the easiest thing on the planet.

“You have such a pretty pussy, too,” he confesses in a gritty whisper.

You moan for him again, a muffled cry stuck in your throat.

“Feels so warm around my fingers… And you’re so tight, baby— I don’t know how I’m gonna fit my cock in you—”

His words are as sinful as they are vivid.

Behind your shut eyes, you can see the vision of him on top of you. You can feel his sweaty body sticking to yours like glue — similar to the honey you leak for him while he fucks you.

If you try hard enough, you can almost replace his fingers for his cock. You know it’s nowhere near as pleasurable as the real thing, though.

The thought of him fucking you — making love to you — has you whining and writhing beneath him. Your hips jut upward, looking for pleasure and running away from it all at once. His fingers squelch as they push in and in and in. You drool impossibly more for him, drenching his fingers and his rings and the cotton sheets below you.

“You could take it though, right?” the boy above you wonders, swollen lips quirked in a heavy half-smile. “You’d take whatever I give you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

You hardly recognize him now. Not because he’s teasing you — because you’ve gotten more than used to that — but because he’s so damn confident.

He talks to you with the finesse of a guy who’s done this a thousand times, to a thousand different girls. You’re the first, and you know this, but he’s ruining you like he created you.

You nod with a satin sigh.

The silent admission makes Eddie’s head spin.

He shouldn’t have you in the first place, the metalhead freak he is, yet he’s got two fingers inside you and your permission to go further. And he wants to — god, he wants to — but he’s scared it’ll drive him crazy.

Crazier than he already is for you, if that’s possible.

“Get on your side for me, yeah?” he whispers to you, surprising himself with his newfound dominance.

You’re too far gone to do anything but obey him.

You maneuver onto your side like he asked, feeling like your bones are made of melted honey. Eddie follows you. He keeps his fingers nestled deep inside your thrumming heat as he curls in behind you.

His stiff, aching cock is hard and heavy against your clothed ass. Despite the layers of clothes separating you, his warmth presses so intently against you. You clench around him at the feeling — tighter when his fingers begin to crook inside you. You tilt your head back and moan, rutting further back against him.

Eddie smushes his nose into your hair and hums a moan in his throat. His heavy exhale fans against the shell of your ear. He keeps working you open with his fingers, a slow and measured rhythm he maintains with the thrusts of his hips.

He’s terribly sensitive, almost embarrassingly so. You drive him too wild for anything else. Even like this, without being inside you and with his clothes still on, he feels like he might explode.

You’re much of the same. The pad of his thumb rubs mercilessly at your swollen clit as his fingers coax you towards a head-spinning orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure crawls up your throat, strikes you like lightning, and swirls in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t run from it if you tried.

It doesn’t stop you from canting your hips back and forth — a feeble attempt to cope with the overwhelming pleasure Eddie gives you with nothing but his hand. With his pale arm caging your side and his lean body behind you, curling and melting with yours, you can only get so far.

All you can do is take it.

Eddie whimpers delicately in your ear as he humps your ass. He babbles in faint whines — things you don’t think he realizes he’s saying.

“You’re so hot, baby,” he slurs heavily, swollen mouth tracing the shell of your ear. “So soft, too... Fuck... Keep grinding back on me like that— shit, yeah, just like that. ’S gonna make me come in my fucking pants, baby.”

If you weren’t drowning in the void of your own pleasure, you might’ve asked him to come. No, begged him to. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” you would’ve assured him, only slightly teasing. But you don’t do any of that because his fingers are shoved so far into you that you can feel them in your throat.

Or maybe that’s just your impending climax choking you.

You couldn’t form an intelligible sentence if you wanted to, either way.

Instead, you roll your hips back against his cock and act like he’s fucking you for real. The idea of it alone sends you catapulting into an orgasm. You’re so far gone for him — for the freak of Hawkins — you let him ruin you while you fall for him like the rain pounding at your window.

Effortlessly, unapologetically, and over and over and over again.

Eddie dampens his boxers in the same way you drench his fingers. His twitching cock drools for you, more and more as he nears his peak. He hasn’t felt anything as gratifying as grinding against you like this. He’s bound to be a fucking goner the second he’s caught inside your snug pussy.

“Can feel you trembling for me, you know?” he continues to ramble, only half-aware of the sin spilling from his rosy lips. His thumb presses against the fleshy hood of your clit. He’s barely moving it, but the pressure alone has you buzzing. “You’re gonna cum so hard for me, aren’t you? Gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

You bite back a cry — quite literally, with your teeth caging your bottom teeth — and lean your head back to bear your throat. You throw a hand back in search of Eddie. Your fingers twist in the mussed curls at the crown of his head.

“Mm, Eddie—” you call in a muffled cry, overwhelmed and half-frightened by how good he’s making you feel. By how hard you’re about to cum for him.

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos sympathetically to you, crooking his fingers in time with his grinds against the plush of your ass. His cock starts to ache all over again, this time with hunger.

Through a breaking voice, he begs. “Go on and cum for me, yeah? Let me make you feel good, baby. Cum all over my fingers, baby— I need it… I fucking need it. I’m so fucking close—”

You bury your face in the pillow when you cum, crying his name into the cushion for only the two of you to hear. You tense, thighs shaking and toes curling, as you gush around his fingers — like the pouring rain outside.

You drip mercilessly for him, a slippery mess between your thighs you know you should be ashamed of. You might’ve been, if it were anybody else.

Eddie stills behind you, though his fingers remain relentless. He coaxes you completely through your orgasm just as he’s reaching his own. His moans come out in gasps — choppy, sharp breaths through a swollen mouth. His aching cock spits in the confines of his boxers, several warm loads that cool too quickly.

He trembles through his high, trying to trek through its entirety but growing so suddenly sensitive.

You let him work you through yours. His fingers, now wrinkled at the pads, are frozen inside you while his thumb circles softly at your delicate clit. You twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your hand leaves his hair to grab his wrist, a silent plea that you can’t take anything more.

And the two of you just lie there, for several long moments — sticky, blissed-out, and so intently pressed together. You let the heavy moment of your ebbing orgasms linger. You decompose together in the heavy honey of pleasure.

It’s all so messy, but then again, everything seems to be.

His hair, his fingers, his boxers.

Your thighs, your bed, your heart.

Words. Life. Love.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie

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ginxyy · 9 days ago

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The beat of our hearts

My soulmate Vernon

It’s funny how love can creep up on you, like a quiet melody playing softly in the background Our story doesn’t begin in the usual places no cozy coffee shops or sun-kissed picnics. Instead, it starts late one evening in a studio filled with the scent of old records and the glimmer of fairy lights. I was there sitting on the edge of a plush couch, absorbed in the warm glow of creativity, the sounds of Vernon and his friends swirling around me like a sweet serenade. I never imagined that night would change everything, but a chance encounter with the boy whose laughter became my favorite sound was about to become something extraordinary.

Vernon had just finished recording a new song when he caught me in his gaze, a playful grin stretching across his face. “Hey, do you want to hear the first draft of my rap?” he asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. Little did he know that I had secretly been hoping for this moment. “Of course!” I replied, barely able to contain my excitement. My heart raced not just because of the music, but because it was Vernon asking me to share in something so personal.

The moment he began to rap, I could hardly suppress my laughter. His lyrics were funny, borderline cringy, and so adorably awkward. He wove ridiculous puns about how I was “the cream to his coffee” and declared dramatically how “rapping was harder than washing a pet cat.” His voice was melodic yet playful, and I could see him getting more animated as he performed. Each line was laced with a touch of his unique charm, and my heart swelled at the sight of him lost in his element. I found myself captivated, hypnotized by the rhythm of his words and the twinkle of his eyes as he poured every ounce of his playful energy into making me smile.

After his impromptu performance, he plopped down beside me, breathless and beaming, the soft glow of the studio lights framing his features. “Did you like it?” he asked, his cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. I couldn’t help but chuckle, nodding enthusiastically. “It was perfect, you’re an absolute goof!” I replied, and he laughed, the sound echoing in my heart.

From that night, an extraordinary journey began. Our connection evolved with every stolen glance and shared inside joke. I would often find him in the studio, rapping personally written verses to me, each one more ridiculous than the last. Each performance drew me closer to him as he incorporated silly references to our clumsy moments and our inside jokes. It felt like we were composing our love song, each simple word pulsating with affection and teasing banter.

In the evenings, we would often sneak away from the bustling world around us, seeking the soft glow of the city lights. We found ourselves exploring hidden corners of the city that only locals knew, places with art-covered walls and street food that ignited our senses. One night, as we wandered down a narrow alley, we stumbled upon an abandoned little garden filled with wildflowers, their bright colors almost glowing in the moonlight. With a sparkle in his eyes, Vernon pulled me into a little dance, holding my hands in his and twirling me around as if we were the only two people in the world. With every step, I felt the world around us fade; it was just us, tangled in laughter and an unspoken promise.

His spontaneity extended to our quiet moments as well. On lazy weekends, he would surprise me with a new song he had written, his face lighting up with pride as I listened. Each melody was like a love letter, pouring his heart into every lyric. My favorite, though, was the goofy songs he would create on the spot. One time, he spontaneously started rapping about “our adventures of finding socks that match.” As ridiculous as it was, it was in those moments that I realized just how deeply I had fallen for him the way he let his guard down and embraced his quirks only made me adore him more.

Vernon’s sense of humor became one of the many layers of our love. We could spend hours just teasing each other, trading silly impressions and debating whether pineapple belonged on pizza. He was nothing short of charming, and even when he tried to show off his serious rap skills, I couldn't help but pull my phone out to capture the moment, knowing I would want to remember his playful attempts forever.

Through every moment spent together, I discovered the depths of his heart a balance of lightheartedness and genuine consideration for those around him. He was kind, thoughtful, and always made time to listen to my dreams and fears. During quiet nights, we would lay under the stars, our fingers intertwined, sharing our thoughts about the future. With every conversation, I realized that this wasn’t just a fleeting romance; it was a connection unlike any I had ever known.

In this beautifully imperfect tapestry we were weaving together, I came to get lost not only in the sparkle of Vernon’s laughter but also in the glow of his heart. Every day felt like an adventure, each memory crafted from laughter and love. As I look back, I realize how this romance became more than just about silly moments; it transformed into a love story bursting with laughter, small surprises, and an unspoken bond that spoke louder than any words could ever convey.

Our love isn’t defined by grand gestures but by the beautiful chaos that comes with sharing our lives together a tapestry of laughter, rap battles in the dark, and little moments of pure magic that ignite the soul. The simplistic and joyous connection we found to love and to be loved, wrapped snugly in our own universe will forever remain the sweetest melody in my heart, the one I dance to with my Vernon, my heart's rhythm, forever and always.

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cnnmairoll · 1 year ago

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Napping with the Dozing General

Pairing :Jing Yuan x Reader Genre : Fluff, Domestic Summary : The "Dozing General" Jing Yuan's legendary laziness transforms into heartwarming domesticity as you both find solace and love in shared naps, their tranquility echoing the depth of your affection within the bustling world of Xianzhou. a/n : this fic is part of The Domestic Things They Do With You so feel free to check out what other character will be there!

In the serene realm of Xianzhou, where ancient traditions intertwined with modern innovations, you found yourself entwined with the enigmatic and charismatic figure of Jing Yuan. As the general of the Cloud Knights, Jing Yuan was known for his exceptional leadership on the battlefield, his unwavering dedication to his people, and, quite notably, his charmingly lazy disposition. The tales of his penchant for dozing off had earned him the affectionate title of the "Dozing General."

Yet, amidst the bustling world of politics, alliances, and battles, you discovered a side of Jing Yuan that few had the privilege of witnessing. It was a side that painted him as not just a leader, but as a partner in the journey of life, love, and domesticity.

One of the most endearing aspects of your relationship with Jing Yuan was the cherished tradition the two of you shared: the art of napping. Despite his reputation as a seasoned warrior and brilliant tactician, Jing Yuan held a special fondness for moments of repose, for the soothing embrace of slumber that would whisk him away from the demands of the world, if only for a short while.

It was a quiet afternoon when you found yourselves nestled in a cozy corner of your shared residence. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow upon the room. A plush couch served as your sanctuary, the cushions yielding under your weight as you settled down. Jing Yuan's head rested gently on your lap, his long hair fanning out like a cascade of snow.

You traced delicate patterns through his hair, your fingers dancing over the silken strands. With every stroke, you could feel the tension melting away from his form, his breathing growing steady and serene. His golden eyes were half-lidded, a tranquil smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Working tirelessly again, my Dozing General?" you teased, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of adoration. He chuckled, the sound a melodic resonance that harmonized with the peaceful ambiance of the room.

"It seems I cannot escape the demands of leadership, even in my dreams," he replied, his voice a velvety whisper. "But moments like these, with you, offer me a respite from the chaos. A sanctuary of tranquility."

As your fingers continued their gentle exploration of his hair, you couldn't help but marvel at the layers of complexity that made up the man before you. The same person who commanded respect on the battlefield was the one who sought solace in your presence, who reveled in the simple pleasure of shared moments.

★⋆. ࿐࿔ Bonus (Napping Together) :

You could always tell when he was about to appear. There was a gentle anticipation in the air, a sense of serenity that enveloped your senses. Then, with the grace of a phantom and the quiet determination of a man on a mission, he would appear before you, a small, fond smile playing on his lips.

"Darling," his voice, smooth and deep, would wrap around you like a cozy blanket, "I believe it's time for our well-deserved break."

And with those words, your heart would skip a beat. Without any need for further explanation, you would take his hand, fingers lacing together in a gesture that felt as familiar as your own heartbeat. He would lead you to a room adorned with soft, billowing curtains that danced with the breeze, a haven of tranquility away from the bustling castle life.

Together, you would settle onto a plush, inviting bed. The gentle rustle of fabric was the only sound that dared to intrude upon the sacred silence you shared. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding a sword, would brush against your cheek in a tender caress before he moved to lie beside you.

Jing Yuan's presence was a soothing balm to your soul. As you nestled into the crook of his arm, the world outside ceased to exist. His warmth enveloped you, and his steady heartbeat became a comforting lullaby, easing away the worries of the day.

The two of you would gaze at each other, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, words unnecessary. His golden eyes held a promise - a promise of protection, of unwavering devotion, and a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

In the soft embrace of each other's company, you would drift into slumber, dreams intertwining and melding together. Perhaps you would find yourselves in a shared dreamscape, exploring lands far beyond the realm's borders, or maybe it was a realm where your hearts communicated without words, where your love was the only language needed.

When you would awaken, nestled against Jing Yuan's side, the world would have shifted. The stresses and troubles that had weighed upon you before had been momentarily banished, replaced by a newfound vitality and a sense of renewal.

With a gentle stretch and a contented sigh, Jing Yuan would pull you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a sweet, lingering kiss. "Time to face the world again, my love," he would murmur, his voice holding a mixture of reluctance and determination.

And as you both rose from the bed, ready to take on whatever challenges the day had in store, the memory of those shared naps - those stolen moments of tenderness and respite - would remain etched in your hearts, a testament to the power of love and the magic that existed in the most ordinary yet extraordinary moments of domestic bliss.

#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ mai writes #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan hsr #hsr x reader #star rail #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan

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coveteddilf · 1 year ago

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— EYES ON ME + reo mikage x afab!reader (18+)

synopsis — while taking yourself on a fancy dinner, you run into pro soccer player reo mikage at the restaurant. he decides he wants you as his entertainment for the night, and you agree, even if it is in an unused staff room. afterward, he gives you an offer you can’t help but accept.

✿ content — aged up characters (20’s), afab!reader, pro player!reo + soft dom!reo + body positive!reo, heavy smut, pet names (bunny, baby, sweetheart), fingering, unprotected sex (pls use condoms guys lol), inappropriate use of ties, reo is big on consent in this one guys, nsfw + minors dni

✿ words — roughly 7k

✿ rating — explicit (18+)

✿ notes — this was written with my best friend ( @seehaven ) in mind. i’ve owed her about 10 fanfics for around 2 years, so this is my first to make it up to her lol this is not beta’d in any way, and i didn’t even re-read it (i really wanted to get it out before reo’s birthday ended), so if there’s any glaring errors, let me know. otherwise, eat your hearts out. happy birthday you purple-haired bastard.

( requests open @ofbarou! )

Rarely do you get to go out and spend time at a restaurant as fancy as the one you and your friends made reservations for tonight. Stepping into the extravagant entrance alone makes you feel like you’ve stepped into another world, with the plush red curtains and chandeliers made of diamonds and gold. Things are expensive in a main city like this one - high rise buildings and penthouses that boast wealth on top of stories and stories of infrastructure. You’re sure that the cost of the meal you’re about to eat will cost more than you usually spend on groceries in a month.

But it feels good to get out of the apartment; it feels good to slip something sexy on and take a night out on the town, even if it’s with friends you don’t normally see. Maybe that’s part of the appeal itself, being a different person for a night.

Even seated at your table, you can tell no money was spared in making sure the atmosphere and the quality of product was correct. The burgundy polyester napkin that the waiter draped across your lap makes your toes curl in heels you typically don’t wear. If you weren’t feeling luxurious in the little black slip dress you’d picked out, you certainly do now, when the waiter returns with a glistening bottle of wine.

Your friends engage in little conversations across the table, and the three of them seem to be keeping up with the social expectations here pretty easily. While you’re in awe of the place, you’re a little…bored, sitting stagnant at the table, bouncing your feet beneath the cloth-covered surface. You’d much rather be looking at the art sprawling over the walls or the opulent architecture that makes up the building.

When you’ve all placed your orders, the waiter takes the menus from you, compliments the lavender shade of your nails before he walks away. It warms your cheeks, and you can’t help but push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You got them done just for this dinner. It was nice to treat yourself sometimes - you work hard for your money and spending it on making yourself feel good should be more of a priority.

You smile to yourself after thinking that.

People in your life are often telling you to be less-cautious, take more chances, to be less afraid of the unknown. You know that you’ve missed out on some good things by not taking leaps of faith more often.

You excuse yourself from the table for a moment, make some excuse about using the restroom, and fold your napkin nicely on the table before you go. While you’re not normally so meticulous, you want to keep up appearances in such an immaculate place, one where there’s not even a single item in disarray on the main floor.

Taking this time to look around, you find yourself drawn to a local artist’s work hung neatly on the wall. It certainly appeals to the general vibe the restaurant tries to make come across, and you almost want to touch your fingers to the dried paints of the feature. There’s a long moment where you hold the tiny little purse slipped over your shoulder a tad too tightly, fighting the urge to actually give into the impulsive thought.

The woody notes of an expensive cologne bring you out of your thoughts a breath or two later - you spin around with a sharp inhale when you realize someone is right next to you. Your face heats, and your body clenches in surprise, and you let out your gasp like a relieved sigh when it doesn’t seem to be someone who works here coming to yell at you for gawking at the painting for minutes on end.

Instead, it seems to be a soccer star that you’ve only seen on television and youtube interviews.

Somehow you hadn’t realized that time had slowed since the Reo Mikage stepped into frame, because when it speeds back up, you feel out of breath. Frazzled, you hurry to make apologies, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Am I in your way?” You step away from him instead of closer, despite the fact that your body is screaming at you to do the exact opposite for the love of god. He seems to think you being flustered is either funny or endearing because he laughs, and it’s like hearing the chorus of your favorite song again for the first time in years.

“You’re fine,” Reo says in English, and it’s magical. He gives you this cocky little smirk that would look annoyingly smug on anyone else, but it just makes Reo look unbearably handsome. “I saw you get up from your table, and I figured I’d come find you.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but the words make your stomach flutter in a good way. You attempt to ask ‘why?’ but when you open your mouth, nothing really comes out. You’d known when you walked in that the VIP section in the south of the room had been occupied, the area secluded from the other tables in the restaurant, and filled with pretty important-looking business men. But you can guess that maybe that was where Reo had been hiding. You would have noticed the shock of purple hair and magenta eyes.

His suit looks expensive (and tailored, if the way it hugs his muscled arms and legs is any indication - you’d hate to see him turn around and catch you staring at the other thing the clothing was clinging to), and the grey jacket and navy tie do wonders for accentuating his features. And now that you’ve spent too long gawking at him again, Reo looks like he’s letting out a relieved chuckle. “For a second, I thought I’d lost my edge - now I can see you’re just embarrassed.”

Reo exudes confidence, and for just a moment, you want to bask in it. You’re still not sure why he’s talking to you, but you’re taking advantage of every second you can get with him.

“You have a beautiful smile,” He starts, taking one step closer over polished marble floors that are so damn clean that you can almost see your reflections in them. The space between you dwindles when he copies the motion a second time. You’re in a corridor off the main dining area that would elude to more privacy, but there are still plenty of wait-staff meandering around. You don’t want them to get the wrong impression. “I wish I had been the one making you blush like that, but I guess I can correct that in the future.”

The man’s tone oozes something that warms you from the inside out, and suddenly, even in such little clothing, you feel like you’ve been enveloped by it.

And that’s when it hits you: Reo Mikage is flirting with you.

“You could start right now?” You say, and it’s like something has possessed you for a moment, because in no other context would you ever say something like that to someone like him. While you’re generally not bad at talking to people, you’re never outright flirty with someone who makes your heart thump like a hammer to your rib cage, and so blatantly.

Seemingly, Reo likes the remark though, because he’s throwing his head back for a much fuller laugh, and it makes his cheeks pink too. “Yeah? I guess you’re right. Beating me right to the punch.” By now, he’s backed you both into more of a corner behind the wall, the original painting that had caught your eye some fifteen, twenty feet away. Your attention has been stolen by something far more important.

“I’ve been told that your non-dominant hand is stronger than your dominant one, watch out for my left hook.” You tease. Reo must delight in it because the words seem to change the light in his eyes; it’s shifted into something competitive, teasing, excited.

And while you’ve definitely known that he’s taller than you, it’s much more noticeable with him towering over you like this, a large hand slowly moving to wrap two large fingers around your much smaller wrist.

It feels as if you’ve entered another world with him.

You can still hear the muffled sounds of the restaurant through the corridor some feet away, but it’s more like white noise when all you want to focus on is the sound of Reo’s voice and the way his laugh reverberates through you.

“You know, I almost believe that.” Reo tilts his head, smile still staining his cheeks amused, “I’m here for a business meeting that’s gotten so boring that I want to gnaw my own arm off. I’d much rather entertain myself with you.”

The words are so blunt that you don’t hesitate to answer quickly after he says, “What do you say?”

“Yes.”

You both look at one another for a moment, tension palpable, before Reo breaks the moment with a pleased laugh. His fingers tighten around your wrist and he tries to pull you along down the corridor. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. And to think, I almost called those idiots to come grab me after sneaking out of the back of the restaurant,” He says a little more to himself.

“Lucky me,” You murmur under your breath. You follow dutifully, heels clicking on hard floors, and you’re both at a speed-walk by the time Reo seems to find where you’re supposed to be going. A door marked ‘STAFF ONLY’ in a golden plaque and little detail.

He notices your unease after reading the door and shakes his head, “Don’t worry.” He lets go of your wrist momentarily, and calls for one of the nearby floor staff. They talk for a moment out of earshot, and there’s a flash of a second when you seem to come to your senses.

‘What the hell am I doing?’ You think. A series of unwanted thoughts about how crazy this all is, how someone, somewhere has to be joking with you. You don’t just run into a pro soccer player that you’ve admired and supported for some time at a restaurant far too rich for your blood. Something in the universe must be playing a trick on you, because why on Earth would Reo Mikage want—

As if sensing the mood change, Reo quickly sprints back to you. Obviously he would be fast, considering his profession, but you hadn’t realized what that would look like up close. “Hey, eyes on me.” He says, and you can’t do anything but listen. You wouldn’t take your eyes off of him ever again, if you could help it.

He soothes your nerves as he pulls you into the now-unlocked staff room. Reo says something about his family knowing the owners that you don’t quite hear, the blood roaring in your ears now that you’re alone with Reo in a much smaller space. The room must be somewhat soundproofed, and it looks like maybe it was a previously used break room, based on the sturdy wooden table and the miscellaneous items like paper-towels and cleaning supplies on a table in the far corner of the room.

You blink at him as your eyes readjust to the new lighting. Whereas the previous room had been a dim, soft white glow, this room had more of an edgy, blue glow to it without the main lights on. The only light source hung on the wall in the corner of the room, much more modern and much less oppulent than the decor outside of the door. It adds a striking splash of color to Reo’s angular face and bright hair, and you wonder how one person could be so handsome.

“Can I still spoil you, or do you want to keep playing i-Spy with the decor?” He teases, slipping into your space again. While his tone is playful, you can see the widening of his pupils, like he’s got something in his sights that he wants to consume. You remember from Reo’s time at Blue Lock that everyone called the group of people from the program ‘egoists’. You can certainly see now how they got their name.

Reo moves with the confidence of someone who gets what he wants, and while it makes your mind spin, he apparently wants you.

“Do something interesting then,” You play back, reaching for his hand that’s come out to rest on your hip. “I don’t want to have to call some friends and slip out the back door.”

The words barely leave your mouth before his lips are capturing yours with a growl. Reo kisses like he has something to prove, and maybe he does. Maybe he wants to prove that he can make your brain melt out of your ears, or maybe he wants to convince you that you’re crazy because never in your wildest dreams did you think something like this could actually happen.

You’ve always been a passive sports fan - soccer is fun, it’s engaging, and the players like Reo work hard to make their dreams come true. You’ve admired many of them over the years, but you’ve always had a soft spot for the man with magenta eyes and ladder to climb. Mikage is a household name at this point, and you’re glad it’s not just for the business-aspect anymore.

He presses harder with calloused fingers into your hips, and you shudder and shake in his grasp, mouth opening in a gasp at the sudden sensation. Reo takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the warm cavern waiting for him, groaning at the taste of you. Warmth pools in your belly, and it’s much different from the previous kind that made your chest tight as Reo complimented your smile.

One of Reo’s hands curls possessively over the side of your neck, and it makes you feel small. You’ve always felt like too much - too loud, too emotional, too everything, but simply by existing, Reo’s managed to coax the roaring inferno of your anxiety into ashes. You find yourself relaxing into his touch, tongue meeting his as it skims across your teeth.

Your breaths mingle as well as the taste of too-sweet wine and dry bourbon where your mouths meet. Backwards, Reo begins leading you toward the steady wood table in the middle of the room. There are no chairs around it, so it must not be used very frequently, you think. You nearly stumble back and Reo holds onto you a little more closely now.

The heat of him distracts you enough that you almost don’t hear him speak, “Don’t tell me you’re a klutz.” It’s clearly a tease, but if you’ve learned anything in your short time interacting with him, it’s that Reo loves to be teased too.

“What, don’t want me falling for you?”

The smile he presses to yours is answer enough, but when he whispers a soft, “Wouldn’t be so bad,” you nearly lose your footing entirely.

Luckily, he manages to catch you, lean you down on your back over the surface of the smooth wood beneath you, and nestle himself into the space he creates between your legs. The little black dress you’ve chosen tonight wasn’t very long to begin with, and Reo seems to pick up on the fact that it slides easily up your thighs at the angle he’s keeping your legs.

He catches sight of the small number you’re wearing beneath it and whistles, pupils dilating. “Were you expecting someone?” His voice sounds dark, a little more on-edge than it had previously. If you had been in less of a whirlwind mindset, you might have even thought the man was jealous.

“No,” You start, cheeks stained red and hands splayed over the wood beneath you. For a moment, you try to close your legs, embarrassed, but his sturdy frame halts any progress you might have made there. You try not to bring your hands to cover your underwear in your nerves, “I just like to feel cute. Is there something wrong with that?”

And just like that, his expression softens. “Nothing wrong with that at all,” He sees your panicked expression, the warmth in your cheeks and says a hot, “bunny,” against your lips before he’s following the same design from before. You try not to react too harshly, but the pet name makes your thighs squeeze around his hips where he holds you open, so it must be kind of obvious.

Your hands pull at his clothing and Reo sits back enough to help you gain some progress. He makes quick work of the suit jacket and tie, and it gives you ample opportunity to rove your gaze over his body. His fingers undo the buttons of his dress shirt quickly enough that it’s obvious he’s experienced in the motion, and you can’t look away when his skin is exposed to you.

Soccer players train their bodies in ways you couldn’t imagine firsthand - build themselves up and break themselves down. Blue Lock’s broadcasts years ago had proven that they go through so much, and Reo was no exception to the rule. He’d completely changed from his beginning to the end of his time in Blue Lock - every interview he’d given made that clear.

You feel a sense of pride, seeing him stand so confidently in front of you, even with as turned on and disheveled as his appearance is now. “You’re beautiful,” You say before you can stop it. Reo’s eyes grow wide and his face heats rapidly.

He stutters out a flustered, “Y-You can’t say those kinds of things that casually!” He leans back over you to place his mouth over yours, presumably to shut you up. There are blotches of pink over his collarbones, his chest. You wonder how many people have wished to find out what that looked like in-person, and now you get to experience it. “I’m supposed to be making you frazzled, not the other way around,” He grumbles into your mouth, scraping your tongue with his teeth a moment later.

But something in the atmosphere changed, like Reo is a little more himself, less the persona you see on the covers of magazines or in front of a camera. He cups your face with both large hands and steals your breath away.

When it seems like his patience has run out, he stands back up to his full height and strips himself from the waist down too, toeing off polished dress shoes and kicking slacks and designer belts to the floor. His dark briefs leave little to the imagination, and your tongue desperately wants to follow the inseam of the only clothing item keeping you from seeing him bare. The outline of him bulges at the stretchy material. He likely wears them because they decrease panty-lines in his suit, but you can’t help but admire how fantastic they make him look.

He holds out a hand, and you take it without a second thought. When Reo sits you up, he begins to pull the dress already hiked up past your waist toward your chest, over your head. It feels odd to be laid so bare, just a lacey little number covering you from such an intense look, but it does little to deter your arousal.

It should be embarrassing, how wet you are already, and you’re thankful the panties you picked out are a shade of charcoal. You’d thought they look great on you, and clearly Reo agrees by the low pitch of his voice when he says, “Let me get a look at you.”

You’re confused at first, until you realize your hands have come up to hide your chest. You never wear a bra with a slip dress, and now you’re fighting the urge to cover yourself from his gaze. His approval would mean the world to you, and you’re not sure why you’re doubting how he likes what he sees when he’s looking at you like a starving man at a feast.

Slowly, you put your hands down to your sides, leaning back on the table. There’s a little shake to your muscles where you have to fight the nerves, the impulse to cover yourself back up in case Reo says something that would absolutely destroy your self-esteem, but no comment like that ever comes.

Instead, you’re greeting with a groan, like the soccer star has been punched in the gut. “Oh my god, you’re gorgeous. And you’re over here giving me compliments.” Reo huffs haughtily, hands hesitantly slipping over your neck, down your shoulders. He gives you a look before touching. “This alright?” His voice is gruff, like he’s barely holding himself back from just giving in and doing whatever he wants.

Like he’s always gotten it as soon as he’s asked for it.

It seems like this time is no different, because something creaks in your chest, unbidden and soft and full of warmth at the thought that this man, who anyone would die to get their hands on, would ask permission to touch you. His thoughtful nature despite being someone who usually takes life by the horns splits you in half, makes you spill out the sides of your person and rearrange yourself into something different.

Reo is just a man, too. He’s eager and excited, and his hands immediately find purchase as soon as you give him a quiet ‘yes’ on sensitive skin. He leans over you, cups the creamy skin of your thigh with one hand, the curve of your breast in the other, mouth falling to yours for a moment, then guiding its way toward your neck.

You open your mouth to beg him for a mark, but he beats you to it, the blunt points of his teeth on the junction of your shoulder, your collarbone. It sends shocks through you, and your legs tighten around his waist where he’s managed to make a home for the second time.

The girth of him presses against your folds where he lays his weight, and you feel the kick drum of his pulse where his cock throbs in an effort to get closer. “Reo,” Your voice sounds unlike you, breathy and full of want, and your fingers pull at the small ponytail in his hair, letting the purple locks free. They fall over his shoulder, make the cut of his jaw that much sharper when he looks up at you, meets your eye as he sucks a bruise into the jut of your breast. You’ll be covered in imprints of his teeth for days, at this rate.

That shouldn’t warrant the gush of slick that leaves you at the thought, but there’s no way he’s missed it, pressed this close. He spreads your thighs wide with his hands as he takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud with his tongue, feeling the goosebumps break out over your skin at the sensation. You gasp, and it sounds an awful lot like his name and the word ‘please’ mxied together.

You’re overwhelmed with sensation, and the silky softness of your panties give you no friction, even as he ruts against the hot line of your folds. You squirm, needy and restless as he takes his time with you. It’s almost unbearable, by the time he’s switched to the opposite one, then pressed kisses down your sternum. He’s not a needy grind away from you anymore, now that he’s moved his hips back to get at your chest from a better angle, and you find yourself grabbing hold of his hair, pulling his face back to yours.

“Please?” You breathe against his lips, voice shaky and eyes dark when they meet his bright ones.

“How can I deny you when you ask like that, bunny?” He nips at your lip, then slithers one hand down to the core of you, rubbing slow circles over your hole through the silk of your underwear. “Do you feel how wet you are right now?” Reo’s voice meets arousal and amusement, maybe a tinge of awe, if you could concentrate enough to parse it all.

Some sort of shame floods your system at his words, but it seems to be the good kind, if the way your hole clenches at the promise of his fingers seems to be any indication. Reo notices, of course. You almost want to damn his impeccable ability to read the room, but it does get you a firmer press of his fingers to your heat, so you can’t complain too whole-heartedly. Your hips press into the motion, and the tacky wetness begins to leak over your thighs in the overflow.

You move a hand to shield your face from his gaze, but he quickly pulls it away, face stern. “I want your eyes on me, sweetheart. Don’t look away.” His ego rears its head, but it doesn’t stop the pulse of want that echoes through you at the words. You’d do anything he asked, you think.

“O-Okay,” You swallow thickly, wetness creeping on the edges of your vision the moment his fingers dip below the fabric of your panties. He grazes the smooth, wet edges of your folds, and sinks a single digit into the heat of you. A shuddery yelp leaves you, and you can’t tell if your body wants to push into it or get away. The sensation is overwhelming, but it leaves your body feeling hot and too-sensitive.

“I should have known you would be a cry-baby. The ones with the prettiest smiles cry the easiest,” Reo soothes as he swipes a tear from your cheek where it falls as a betrayal. You try to protest, that you’re not crying because you’re upset, but he shushes you with a quiet, “I know, baby, I know. Feels good. It’s okay - just feel it.”

And rarely do you just give into that urge - just feel something because you want to, because you deserve to. You’re not being too much, according to Reo, who seems to eat up every sound that escapes you as he curls his finger inward, then adds a second. You’re practically panting at this point, and you’d try to feel some semblance of pity for yourself if the wide stretch of two, then three of Reo’s fingers didn’t feel like one of those coming-to-god moments.

“Please - please, I’m so ready,” You whine, and Reo laughs, even as the words make him palm his cloth-covered cock with his free hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He tries, crooking his fingers, letting your slick drip down over the meat of his palm. “Although, I’m not sure that it’ll be much of an issue.” He still sounds cocksure, and there’s a part of you that wants to disarm him as much as he’s disarmed you.

You’re distracted by him pulling his fingers free. Reo wipes them over your thigh while he sticks his tongue out, and you both laugh a little at the childish behavior. It’s nice to be able to laugh during sex - you know plenty of people who take it too seriously, and Reo is just the right kind of charming to keep the mood light.

When he finally shucks down his own underwear, the jut of his heavy cock is prominent where it slaps messily against his abdomen. There’s a pearly slick at the tip of him, and you can’t help but huff out a quiet, “You were making fun of me for being wet?” He has the decency to look at least a little sheepish as he pulls off your underwear for you, throwing the garnment to the ground like it personally offended him despite his previous praise for its aesthetic.

“You can’t blame me after hearing the noises you’ve been making,” He gripes back, and it’s like you have a routine despite hardly knowing one another at all. The easy feeling floods you as he finally presses the tip of his cock to your sopping hole.

Reo’s gotten distracted with the way you’re spread out for him, your legs held wide by his large palms, the way you’re trying to suck him in as he passes the outline of his dick over your wet labia. He presses the very tip of his dick to your clit, uses a finger to hold you open as he gently rotates himself in circles over you. An overstimulated shuffle happens and a long whine leaves you when he doesn’t stop the motion.

When it seems like he’s had too much, he closes his eyes, ruts inexpertly into the wetness of your mound and coats himself with your juices. “You gonna let me fuck you, bunny?” He presses, voice deep and achy with arousal. It’s the first time it hits you that he wants you just as badly as you want him right now. It makes you just as impatient as him.

Your nod is all he needs.

He guides himself to your hole, spreads your thighs with his own, and angles himself down as he presses into you with one long thrust. Gravity does most of the work for him. It’s not long before the meat of your thighs and ass are meeting his pelvis. It’s sticky and warm between you, and you’d be shy about how wet you were if Reo wasn’t keening at the feeling of being fully sheathed inside of you.

Reo’s eyes are wide and full of emotion - he’s overwhelmed too, it seems, but his mouth gapes open slightly when he gives a gentle roll of his hips inside of your wet warmth. It feels a little like he’s spearing your guts, being bent in half the way he has you, but the incredibly full-feeling is welcome.

Large hands hold onto your legs, hold them closer to your chest as Reo leans more of his muscled weight on you. It makes his cock feel deeper, wider as he fucks into the core of you with a steadily building rhythm. The first few slaps of skin are so wet that it brings tears back to your eyes. The glide of skin on skin is easy this way, and your cunt tightens each time Reo pulls out and shoves his way back in.

He’s like a storm - the force of him receding and then plowing back in tenfold. You know your cries are loud each time he slams home, pressing delightfully against sensitive spots you weren’t even aware you had, and it’s only confirmed when he reaches for his tie still slung over the corner of the table beside them. “Open your mouth, babe —“

The words are somewhat slurred, like maybe Reo is a little cock-drunk too. He’s panting over you, hips unable to stop moving, even as he deems this little interaction a necessary interlude to your current scenario. You’re not really listening though, just clenching around the intrusion inside of you, milking his cock by rocking your hips back and forth to meet his.

He hisses like a cat when you hit a particularly good angle, it seems, because not only do you feel the tightness in your abdomen grow, but you also feel the way his body clenches, the way his dick throbs inside of you. Reo leads a thumb into your mouth, presses it against your tongue. Like second nature, your mouth opens wider to let him in.

Reo groans, hips stuttering at the warm-wet of your mouth, and he wishes he had all of the time in the world to use you. You know that look - and the fact that it’s directed toward you sends you reeling, hips shoving against Reo’s with more force. Breathless, takes the end of the tie and presses it to your mouth. “Bite down on this bunny - they’re gonna hear you if we’re not careful,” He whispers, and you follow his orders.

It’s nice to let Reo take the lead; you despise making the decisions all of the time, so it’s a welcomed change of pace to have someone who so dutifully picks up the reigns and apparently fucks you into a sex-induced stupor. You whine around the fabric of his expensive tie and try not too feel too badly about the fabric slowly but surely becoming wetter and wetter as you are around Reo’s dick.

His hips piston a little harder, at little more of an angle, and the next thrust has you seeing stars as he shoves in just that tiny bit more. Reo catches on based on the increased volume of your need, moans spilling out left and right, each a different rendition of ‘Reo’ and ‘please’ and ‘more.’

Holding himself above you with one hand, the other slips down to rub messy, wet patterns over your clit. The tightening of your pussy, the way your thighs seem to tremble around him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, it all seems to be undoing him. The sweat on his temple makes the edges of his purple hair a deep eggplant, and there’s a waging war between the pleasure and the fierceness in his eyes.

Your eyes widen when the stifling heat of your orgasm rushes like a tital wave to the forefront of your mind. Your moans become more babbling, nonsensical things, but Reo can hear that it’s supposed to be his name, doesn’t take the time to think about how you knew it without him even telling you.

He really puts his back into it, the echoing slaps of skin-on-skin filling the room, along with the wet squelch of your pussy wrapping around him. Reo’s groaning too, thighs shaking as he speeds up his thrusts. “Come for me, bunny. I want you to cum for me.” His voice is commanding, but there’s this tinge of sweetness that undoes you.

It only takes one thrust, two, three - before you’re legs are clenching around his hips like a vice, and his only choice is to rut into the heat of you while you ride it out. His own whines are loud without a tie to muffle his voice too, but you’ve never heard a sound that turned you on more in your life. No need to hide how much he wants you, how good you’re making him feel. You feel powerful. You feel important.

And you feel a little special, the way he’s grinding into with needy little thrusts and clenching his jaw so hard he might break something, repeating, “Yes, bunny - yes,” as he pulls out suddenly, leaving you empty and distraught about it. You try to whine, but it’s quickly shut down as he comes across your stomach and chest with a few quick strokes to his cock. The tip is so pink and its throbbing in his hand where he can hardly seem to touch himself, oversensitive and pleasure-filled. You remove the tie from your mouth.

“Fuck,” Reo shudders, eyes closed tightly as he comes down from his own high. There’s a moment where you’re both panting, bodies full of tremors and happy hormones, and then he’s laying his body over yours, careful not to squash you under his weight.

He presses a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your chin, then oh-so gently lifts your mouth to his. Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you. Your frantic heartbeats are slowing down in time together, and you feel incredibly connected now. Reo murmurs how amazing you are against your lips, a slew of other compliments, and it makes your chest tight, your heart fuzzy.

When the moment has begun to pass though, you both cringe at the cooling, tacky feeling between your bodies. Still, it helps you both laugh. “Hold on for a second,” Reo murmurs, the first to be able to use his legs again as he stands and holds his spent dick in his palm. He waddles over to the paper towels on the opposite corner table, runs one or two through the water in the small sink hidden neatly beside it, then waddles back.

He’s perfunctory in his cleaning job, but you can’t really say you blame him when your legs have forgotten how to work too.

When you’re both as clean as you’re likely going to get, he tosses the paper towels in a small trash can against the wall. Reo lets out a sigh of relief, looking more relaxed than he had all night. There’s a swell of pride at the thought that you are the reason he looks like that.

A small smile welcomes your face and he eagerly kisses it, humming with affection. “You’re amazing,” Reo promises as he pulls away.

You both get dressed as well as you can. Your dress seems fine, although you’re not really sure you’ll be able to wear your underwear now that they’ve been stretched out as much as they have around Reo’s hand. Something must show on your face because Reo says, “I’ll buy you a new pair. Hell, I’ll buy you 10 new pairs.”

It makes you laugh. You don’t know Reo that well, but you have a feeling that there’s less joke to that statement than the average person would think there is.

When you’re semi-put-together, Reo says, “I had the waitstaff tell your friends that you weren’t feeling well. I have to get back to my meeting, but there really is a car out back that will take you home so that you don’t have to try and walk home like this,” He huffs, disgruntled at how much he’s taken you apart, like he didn’t enjoy every second of it.

“Sorry about the underwear. I really will replace them,” Reo holds his hair tie in his mouth just a mere foot away, sloppily putting the hair at the back of his head up into a messy little ponytail. He looks…disheveled too. You don’t really feel bad. “Do you like soccer?”

You nod, and he smiles, “Come to my next game. I’ll fly you out, all expenses paid. And if you miss any work to be there, let me know. I’ll give you your yearly salary for any of the time you miss.” The grin he wears now is sly, confident. “My driver will give you as many tickets as you want. Sell them, give them to your friends - whatever. Just keep one for yourself.”

Reo steps close again, drawing you into him. It’s a last kiss, of sorts. There’s a stab of panic at the thought of saying goodbye, but you really don’t want to be in the way when he’s got business to attend to.

Still, when he pulls back, the look he gives you is reassuring. “Don’t forget, okay? I’ll be waiting.”

He unlocks the door, hands you the small bag you’d carried in with you, and looks around for something in the hall. When he apparently finds what he’s looking for, he points in the direction of the back of house and guides you outside of the door. One of the waitstaff smiles politely and gives you a quick, “This way, please.” You look to Reo and he smiles encouragingly.

“I’ll see you soon, right?” You nod. You say a quick goodbye, somewhat embarrassed, and he cackles, saluting you with a wink and a childish poke of his tongue from his lips. That soft little thing inside of your chest thuds painfully against your ribs.

He watches you the entire way out of the restaurant and into the car from the long hallway. The last thing you see is him wave when the back door closes, and when you get inside of his fancy car, the driver nodding his hello to you, you realize the meal you ordered earlier has been remade and is in a small container for you.

The note on top says, “Thought you might be hungry after that. xoxo” And then a phone number. Your face stays beet red, even as you open the container and begin to eat your food. He must have planned for things to go well in advance, enough to have the kitchen make your order when you left. You want to be annoyed at his presumptuous nature, but all it really does is make you want him more. You smile around your fork.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #bblk x you #reo x you #bluelock thirst #blue lock imagines #grimmjaws #afab reader #fem reader #grimmjawswrites

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schemmentisjacket · 2 months ago

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Chapter 10 - Sad Cowboy pt 1

‘That was real nice hun, and I don’t say that about just anyone’s cooking, ask Janine.’ Melissa said, pushing her empty plate away and taking a drink from her ice water. ‘A glass of wine would have gone down nicely too.’

‘Maybe next time. When you’re not concussed. I’ve got some nice stuff in the wine fridge. Shall we move to the lounge? I’ll wash the dishes later.’

‘Really treating me,’ Melissa chuckled, the medication was beginning to kick in and the pain in her head subsiding, a light warm feeling coming over her instead.

They headed into the living room, a large clean room, a plush corner sofa with a coffee table in front, a reasonably sized tv, nothing crazy, an acoustic guitar on a stand and a couple of pieces of art on the wall.

‘Do you wanna watch something or just have some music playing and chat?’

‘Are you going to play for me?’ Melissa asked cheekily as they sunk into the comfort of the sofa. Melissa pulling her legs up and tucking her feet underneath to the side. Charlie leant back in the corner section that was almost a chaise lounge, legs stretched out in front of them.

Charlie blushed the tips of their ears turning red, ‘How about I tell you more about myself? You seemed interested earlier?’ They said deflecting the question.

Pulling out their phone, some quiet music began filtering into the room, filling it with soft country.

‘You really like country music huh?’

‘So I grew up on a ranch up north. A pretty successful family one. I was in college studying when my parents and grandparents were in an accident on the way back from a vacation. I’d never really had an interest in taking over the family business, so they had plans in place. The business was sold, but all the employees stayed on as part of the deal. I didn’t want anyone to lose their jobs or livelihoods. I kept a small cabin down by the forest and lakes that belonged to my grandfather’s family. Then once I’d finished my studies I started looking for places to live. Philly has a lot of stuff I like, hockey, food, a little taste of the city without being too crazy. The neighbourhoods that need help also remind me of home. There’s wealth but also those less fortunate. It’s not pity. It’s just wanting to help those how I can, I remember being different and not always meeting societies expectations. If that makes sense.’

Melissa smiled, tilting her head sideways against the back cushion of the sofa to look at Charlies profile, ‘I’m real sorry you lost everyone. Sounds like you picked something that called to your heart.’

Charlie avoided eye contact, but Melissa could see the misty look take over their eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever really opened up to someone about it all.’

‘Well thank you. For telling me. Usually most people are intimidated by me. I mean usually thats the vibe I give off. But with you I guess you gave off some intrigue. All hidden and secretive.’

A watery laugh came from their mouth, ‘I don’t cover up like that outside of work. I guess I wanted to make a good impression and seem professional. Especially with you know Barbara being religious and stuff like that.’

Melissa let out a bark of laughter, ‘Barb ain’t that strait laced. Hell you should meet sea barb sometimes. She comes out at Pesca. She’d probably be more upset you thought you couldn’t be yourself around her.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Charlie hummed, ‘I get worries people will get the wrong impression of me, that I’m some sort of wrong un or thug.’

‘When you’re just a sad little cowboy.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa x other #melissa x reader #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic

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comvi · 9 months ago

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OH YEAH BUD? BUDDYERsTION? I MADE MAC AND CHEEsE BEAT THAT!!!!11 INFODUMP ABOUT ANYGAME.ORANYONE.NOW!!!!!!

wrong fucking gif

urg macaronic is pretty darn good……. You got me right in the heart there………..

HMRRR OKAY………. I dont feel in the “infodumping” headspace rught now BUT i can give some headcanons of mine for lampert, perrhaps?

vvvv under cut (cause this was longer than i initially planned)

-his body is sewn and plush-like, with a polyester(?) stuffing, and pellets/beads in places like his tummy and feet, so hes very light (which also means easy to grab….. QUUIKC PICK HIM UP AND SPIN HIM IN CIRCLES!!!)

-unsure what specific material/fabric he would be made of, but i think something from sherpa fleece or boucle, to frosted minky.

-if he cut himself on accident, or somehow tore his body, he can usually just stitch some new fabric right on it and itll close up to normal in a few hours-days depending on how big the tear was.

-the light he emits in the day is usually warm/a yellowish-orange colour, and when its night it changes to a cool blue-hue. but he can change it to a more red-ish colour if he’d like to (as warmer colours are better for sleep, so i imagine he’d do this while trying to get his loved ones to sleep nd whatnot)

-he loves to collect SOFT thigns like plsuhes CAUSE I SAID SO!!!!!!!!! i imagine he has like. a lil nest of them all stored somewhere. hes like a weird chipmunk to me,.

-fat and gay of course. hope my art of him has gotten this across LOL

-i dont personally think he *can actually* eat (due to being a plush and whatnot). if he ate something, especially a liquid, it would just make him dirty/soggy, and hes a germaphobe canonically if im right so…. right not very ideal for him

-very unfamiliar with the internet and almost never uses it except for when infected/kasper is around. because of this he understands some very specific internet slang/terms, but also doesnt know a LOT.

-his home is the ikea he comes from, so he has a little fort there he sleeps in/thats basically his home. but every now-and-then he likes to go over to infecteds/kaspers house and just sleep on his couch. for fun.

-^if he DID have his own house, i think it would be made of wood with a carpet flooring (so its comfortable/wont risk splinters from the wood on his feet, since hes made of a soft material). lights would be off other than when people are around because he enjoys it that way.

-ACTUALLY hes not very much of a people person. rooted in being neurodivergent, hes unsure what specifically though.

-he knows a lot about different fabrics but HE HATES VELVET!!!!!!!!!! i dont like velevwt…..

-he has trouble using his hands/holding things/etc due to their stiff/unmoving position (due to being a plush. his hands are glove-like)

-has symptoms of chronic fatigue no im not explaining this one.

-he has a little heart stitched onto his chest, got it with infected/kasper. this would kinda be like the plush equivalent of a tattoo/piercing/that kinda stuff for him, i’d think.

-LOVES playing puppet combo games, and games with those kinds of graphics/style. plays other games like nintendo ones with other people like split sometimes too.

OKAY DONE!!! SORRY for any spelling mistakes and how LONG this is once i started i just COUDLNT STOP.

#asks #myposts #regretevator #lampert #<- adding those tags just so i can save this for later

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nonexistent-introvert · 2 years ago

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Paper Flowers (Epilogue of Paper Stars)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: Pure domestic fluff, dinner with the mr and mrs jones (the old couple featured in chapter 9) not proofread yet though sorry

Background: Idt I did a good job of clearing things up so basically Adam is the guy who offered Joel the job of being a carpenter and taught him everything about woodworking when Joel had just dropped out of college bc he had to support Sarah and his ex-wife. Joel continued to work for Adam for a long while even after he got divorced.

A/N: Woo i finally concluded this series. thanks for sticking around if you had read this series from start to end. I love you all and I hope you have a great day ahead

paper stars masterlist

The empty space on your desk that was once occupied by the jar of paper stars now displayed a photo of Joel, Sarah, and you. Its frame leaned against the body of a plush toy that Joel had caught using a claw machine when the both of you went out officially as a couple along with Sarah to an arcade. Similar to how Joel, Tommy, and you used to frequent the arcade during your childhood. Except that both Joel and you spent more time complaining over how every game was overpriced nowadays instead of just blowing all your money without a single worry in the world like in the past.

“Hey darling, you ready?” Joel’s head peeked in from the door. You turned your body to him but your head remained down while you tried to put on the necklace. Joel’s breath hitched in his throat when he noticed the skin peeking out from under your blouse as you struggled to put on the necklace. Joel swallowed, making his way to you and casually helping you with the necklace. “I caught you staring.” You remarked at him, feeling his breath against your skin. Joel simply hummed in response, trying to concentrate on the clasp holding the necklace together. “Pervert” Joel chuckled in response, a playful smile on his face. He placed his hands on your hips, “Just got an eye for art.” he defended. He leaned his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with his.

“Hey lovebirds, happy for the both of you and all but can we get a move on,” Sarah complained. You laughed, pushing Joel away slightly. Joel gave you a peck on the lips before letting you go.

==============================================

Joel’s hand was enveloped in yours, his bigger hand almost hiding your small hand completely from Sarah’s view in the backseat. “You’re tensed.” Joel pointed out, his thumb caressing her hand. You gave him a sheepish smile, trying your best to relax. “You met my parents but you’re nervous to meet Adam and his wife.” Joel laughed at the thought of you being nervous around the most warm-hearted people he knew... “They are definitely at least 75% easier to deal with than my parents.” Sarah leaned forward from the backseat. “Definitely, and Mrs Jones makes the best cookies.” You gave both of them a reassuring smile. “You know I hate first impressions.” You sighed, “You’ll do fine. They treated me like their own despite me begging for a living.” Joel trailed off. This time, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He had told you not long ago, how everyone treated him differently after he got married. Treated him like the teenager who had knocked up his first girlfriend, an irresponsible chap.

Sarah ran up excitedly to the door first, knocking enthusiastically. Joel and you lacked behind, his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jacket while your left hand was still intertwined with his inside the pocket. There was a picnic bench and a swinging bench next to a barbeque pit. A small garden was located on the left where fresh fruits and vegetables were being grown along with colorful flowers.

“Sarah! It’s been such a long time!” An old man greeted Sarah by the door with an embrace. His eyes quickly found Joel’s and gave him a simple greeting. Joel gently squeezed your hand, giving you some moral support. You gave him a respectful nod and a smile before introducing yourself. The old man simply grinned at you, leaning to the side for Sarah to rush in. He gave Joel a pat on his back.“Finally got her huh?” He commented before looking back to you.

“Adam, Adam Jones. It’s nice finally putting a face to the name.” He introduced himself. A big grin on his face, “My wife, Lily is in the kitchen.” He told you, slowly closing the door behind you and Joel. Adam smiled knowingly to himself, knowing that Lily would be thrilled to find out that the girl she gave some advice on birthday gifts to in the mall that day is the girl that Joel fell head over heels for.

Lily was the nicest person you had ever met in your life. Her eyes immediately shone in recognition when she saw you. “I guessed the birthday gift turned out well!” she commented immediately, earning a confused look from Joel. It took a second before everything clicked for you. Fate sure was funny sometimes. You opened your mouth to say something but you were just speechless. Instead, you helped Lily set the table along with Joel, Lily telling Joel all about the encounter.

“I didn’t know it was her at first but Adam always had a keen eye. He recognised her from the photo in your wallet.” Lily said as she sat down at the table. “It really is a small world.” Adam commented, picking up the cutlery at his side. Joel glanced at you, “She was so nervous before.” You nudged him in the side, embarrassed that he had to expose you. “Well, I was afraid of making first impressions.” You awkwardly laughed. “Don’t worry. Our first impressions of you had been set in stone ever since Joel first introduced us to you using that photo in his wallet.” You eyed Joel who was busy poking the food with his fork. “Don’t worry dear. Our first impression of you was lovely and positive. He spoke about you and described you like you were there with us in the room. So vividly and detailed.” Lily gushed, “Not to mention the look on his face. We both knew that you must be one lovely person.” You blushed and so did Joel who tried his best to hide it by shoving a few more mouthfuls of food into his mouth. “Yeah, I almost forgot about the fact that Dad never shuts up about you.” Sarah joined, “Kept telling me all about you whenever something triggers a memory. When we watched a cartoon, went into a game store and even while I was doing homework.” Sarah groaned at the last scenario, “Imagine having a headache and struggling over math and you have to listen to Dad suddenly bring up a story about how you hated this topic in math too and got 30% for every test until finals when it shot up to a 75%” Joel shoved a spoonful of food into Sarah’s mouth, urging her to stop oversharing. “It wasn’t 30%” You muttered, Joel glanced at you. “It was 30.5%, which earns me 31%” The table laughed at the comment. “In my defense, I haven’t used trigonometry again ever since I graduated so they shouldn’t have tortured me with those problems.” “Hey, you’re teaching Sarah the wrong things.” Joel scolded. “I’m telling her that the suffering will end one day.” You rebutted. Adam and Lily couldn’t help their peals of laughter, couldn’t help but be reminded of themselves since they were high school sweethearts.

============================================

“I bet there were significantly more female customers than usual.” Adam let out a hearty laugh. Joel shook his head, chuckling lightly. You sat next to Joel, his arms instinctively going over your shoulders to tuck you into his side and pull you closer to him. “What’s this about female customers?” You asked after helping Lily out with the dishes in the kitchen. Sarah sat on the floor, her eyes concentrated on the movie playing on the television, too engaged in the movie to pay any mind to the mindless chatter behind her. “We’re talking about Joel’s attractiveness. He definitely aged like fine wine. Definitely cater to a wider audience now.” Adam teased. Lily giggled as she offered tea to everyone else. “Oh, I remember that one girl who would constantly request to ‘check on the furniture’s progress’” Lily shared. Both of them laughed at the memory, you narrowed your gaze at Joel. “I guess she came to check up on Joel instead of her furniture.” Joel widened his eyes before rubbing his face with his palm. “Oh she definitely did! She would stay for hours trying to make small talk with Joel. Her eyes would track his every movement especially when he pulled his sleeves up and let those muscles bulge.” Adam cackled. Lily shook her head. “I rejected her.” Joel clarified upon watching your stare slowly become a glare, “Yeah he did reject her rather brutally.” Lily said. Joel puffed his chest up, “I finished the project and told her that I’m married.” You nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to react at the mention of Lorraine.“He didn’t mean his ex-wife.” Adam said, noticing your reaction Lily nodded, “He opened the locket around his neck and showed the girl the photo in it. She never came back after. Although she did leave a generous tip.” Joel blushed a deep red as the room filled with Adam and Lily’s waves of laughter and remarks. You simply looked at him.

“I hate you.” The whole room went silent at the sudden words. You could see the smallest hint of fear on Joel’s face.

“If you liked me that much, why didn’t you do something? I spent and wasted so much time having the shittiest love life out of all my friends because I was hungover and convinced that my childhood friend had moved on while I couldn’t” There was a big smile on your face, one that made the room so much brighter and Joel couldn’t help the urge. He caressed your face with his palm and kissed you.

Sarah sighed, shutting her eyes immediately at the sight. “I swear, I have the worst timing and luck ever. Every single time!” Adam roared with laughter at Sarah’s reaction and Lily wasn’t able to get ahold of herself, finally losing all sense of control over her laughter. “I have the rest of my life to make it up to you,” Joel whispered to you, his forehead still leaning against yours. The both of you in your own universe, totally oblivious to the hysterical laughter and complaints from Sarah.

==============================================

Adam had his hand around Lily’s hip, their grey hair shining under the street lights. “Come back soon! I’ll make the cookies the next time.” Lily promised to Sarah’s utter delight. “I hope by then you could come back with another kid.” Adam challenged, earning a shove from Lily and a disgusted look on Sarah’s face. “No pressure. Both of you are still young!” Lily continued to both your and Joel’s dismay. Joel revved the engine of the car, “Yup, let’s leave before the whole neighbourhood hears this.” You chuckled beside him as he pulled away from their driveaway. Sarah and you waved goodbye to the older couple who stood on their front porch.

Your eyes watched as both Adam and Lily returned their attention back to each other. Lily leaned against Adam’s shoulder while looking at him with a look of adoration. Adam returned the look back, his gaze enough to convey the countless words needed to express his love for his wife. He pulled her closer to him as he pressed a kiss to her temple. You recognised a similar scene from the photo of their wedding from decades ago that was proudly displayed in the living room. The only difference after decades of being together only being their age. They were still the same high school sweethearts that were head over heels with each other decades ago.

Your heart warmed at the thought. Your eyes stared at Joel’s side profile as he focused on driving. Growing old with the man of your dreams, the love of your life. Younger you would never believe it. Joel glanced at you but before he could say anything, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks. “I love you” You muttered in his ear. Joel gave you a boyish smile, nervously running a hand through his hair at the unexpected kiss. His cheeks turned warm before he shyly replied.

“I love you more”

Yeah, you want to grow old with him and spend the rest of your life with him. Nothing else matters as long as it was with him.

========================================

You stared at the paper flowers that he had folded. Now displayed in a transparent vase, your paper stars support the paper flowers upright. You smiled, your paper stars were the soil, the basis, and the starting point of your feelings for him. His feelings for you grew healthily and blossomed beautifully like flowers would. You smiled, at the sight of both your creations becoming a significant part of your relationship. Your fingers traced the words at the bottom of the vase.

“I’ll love you till the end of time”- J.M

“I’ll love you for as long as the stars continue to shine in the sky” You signed.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction

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sarandipitywrites · 11 months ago

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NaNo update 11/30

well, that's that for nano this year. i'm so glad i got to participate this year - i might have to make a habit of it. but for now, here's the last bit of The Art of Empty Space for a little while. what's going to happen next? will Lienzo and Baz break the curse? will Lienzo quit pining over Baz and kiss him already? will Lienzo get a pair of pants? only one of these questions answered here; the rest will have to wait until i sweep the mess my plot has become into some sort of order :)

The hazy, cold light of the gloaming stole in through the curtains. Lienzo had watched it creep in, finger by cautious finger, until the darkness had bled away. He needed to get up. He was as rested as he was going to get; the soreness and fatigue of the previous days would have to go away on their own. But he was sore, and tired, and the bed was warm, and smelled like Baz. Baz. He sighed, his lungs replacing the air with something lighter. He burrowed further into the blankets. Baz, still asleep, squeezed Lienzo's waist just that little bit tighter, making his heart clench almost painfully. Why couldn't they stay this way forever? Why did there have to be a curse? Why couldn't he just take Baz home to his maza, where they'd make fun of his weird lizard feet before inviting him in for seafood fritters? Why did they have to read about spells and sigils when they could be reading poetry? Why couldn't he just teach Baz to cook and Baz could teach him about plants and swordfighting and snow globes and the million little things that made Baz, Baz? ...Why had he never asked those questions about anyone else? Restlessness shivered up his legs, crawled under his skin. He pulled away — unsuccessfully, until he wedged his pillow between himself and Baz, giving his bedmate something else to latch onto — and padded across the plush rug to the bathroom. As he went through the motions of bathing and toileting, he turned the situation over and and over like a polished stone. He'd had more sexual partners than was worth the effort of counting. Phi knew about them — there was no hiding anything from them — but they didn't know them. He'd never wanted them to. All of his partners had been for 'sometimes' — when the mood struck. Plenty of people had known him, but he didn't want any of them to know him. He'd never understood that want — the feeling of being flayed open, pinned like a bug under a microscope. He'd never understood why his maza still wore the black-and-red braid they'd made with Xiro, all those years ago. Lienzo didn't feel 'forever.' As he scrunched his braids dry, a bottle of amber liquid on the vanity caught his eye. He popped open the glass stopper and breathed in smoky wood, peppery spice, and deep, dark musk. As he daubed some of the cologne on his fingers and applied it on his wrists and the back of his neck, he stoutly refused to think about 'forever.' There were, unsurprisingly, no clothes of his size in Baz's closet. So, still in his borrowed shirt and undershorts, he stole out into the hall and down the tower stairs. He would go back to his room, find a clean set of clothes, and think through the odd flutter in his chest. He'd always thought better while wearing trousers. When he emerged at the bottom of the stairs, he gasped and flinched back into the shadows. There were people in the keep. Dozens of people, of every size and shape and color, all bustling about, shouting and talking and laughing and hugging and Lienzo didn't know any of them and he wasn't wearing any trousers. "Enzie? Is that you?" A stocky, squareish person with a long dark braid and skin like red river rocks. Aisha. "What are you doing in there? Everyone's been looking for you. They want to thank you — Baz, too." "I— I'm kind of..." He wasn't body-shy. Not in the slightest. But a man had to draw a line somewhere and Lienzo's line, as it turned out, was parading around half-naked in a keep full of strangers. Strangers who wanted, specifically, to see him. Aisha, thankfully, caught on quickly. In less than a minute ze was gone and back again with a tunic in his size, house shoes, the all-important trousers, and even a binder. Ze even stood guard while he changed in the stairwell. Only when he was presentable did ze trot him out to the crowd.

AES taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @notwritinganyflufftoday

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo #nano check in #my writing #the art of empty space

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theyoshimister · 1 year ago

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sorry for going anonymous like this but i just wanted to let u know that ur an inspiration to me when it comes to art

like, you have been an inspiration since 2019 for me when i first saw kirbooby and got back into the kirby fandom. and to see that you also love jevil makes me even more happy and it’s just like so awesome and you’re awesome and this blog is awesome

tl;dr thank you for being a massive inspiration and stuff rosbskdbdkm

My man, it is perfectly fine!

I can understand being too shy to reveal yourself to someone you look up to (trust me, I've had those moments myself). It really warms my heart hearing people like you come up and tell me how I've been an inspiration when it comes to art; it just tugs at the ol' heartstrings, y'know? A bit funny how me and my dumb little AU was something you saw when you rejoined the fandom, but I'm not complaining though! However, I'm both surprised and overjoyed to see you get into it. It's funny how you mention Jevil... I actually didn't like him at first, believe it or not! Though, he certainly did pull off a bit of charm that got me falling for him (even bought a Jevil plush for myself).

Even behind anonymity, I thank you for sending this in! Really brightens my day!

#ask #anonymous #bro this actually made my day #It honestly feels nice to hear this sort of thing #like I'm actually making a difference #also don't worry about going on anonymous man #I hope you have a wonderful day in the end #same goes to everyone else #you guys are the best

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spacesquidlings · 1 year ago

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Fifth Planet From The Sun, Beloved By The Moons

By the afternoon of Gavin's birthday, the heat has already reached a fever pitch, but Rowan and Gavin have no plans to stay outdoors. They'll be travelling to a new, state-of-the-art museum that will capture Gavin's heart as surely as he has already captured hers. And with every new exhibit they wander through, Rowan will be reminded of how her love for him is fathomless; as endless as the ever-expanding universe.

Pairing: Gavin Bai x OC (Rowan)

Warnings: Mentions of suggestive content

Notes: Hello!!!! I’m here to wish the most happiest of birthdays to my favourite fictional boi and my favourite comfort character. I love you Gav!!!! I hope anyone who reads this has a marvellous time, and I hope it brightens up your day just as much as writing it brightened mine!!!!

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Arms stretched high towards the cerulean of the afternoon sky, Gavin passed a long, slow gaze across the trees that surrounded the small cabin they had rented for the week.

Well, cabin was the wrong word. The building was wooden but it was circular with a domed roof, and Rowan had been so excited at the idea of staying in one that he hadn’t been able to say no to her when she’d been looking for places for them to stay that week. He couldn’t remember what it was called, but it was essentially a big round cabin. It had heated floors, a cozy little fireplace set in the middle of the main room, and a full bathroom and kitchen. It even had a loft that housed a cozy bedroom, with a massive, soft bed that took up nearly all of the floor-space.

There was even a deck a few feet away, with a couple of plush outdoor seats wrapped around an outdoor fireplace.

All things considered, it was quite a nice place. And the look on his wife’s face when they’d secured their rental of it had made it better than perfect.

“Gavin it’s going to be amazing,” she’d gushed, moving to curl up on his lap after she’d closed her laptop, beaming up at him with a smile that outshone the stars. “The loft will be so cozy it looks nice and warm!”

He’d chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around her and leaning back until her head rested on his shoulder, her chest pressed against his. “It’s the middle of the summer, pumpkin. Are you sure you want it to be warm?”

“Well the place comes with air conditioning,” she’d muttered, glaring up at him. “And you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

That had earned him a smack. He’d deserved it, he’d known he’d deserved it. But that hadn’t stopped him from whining a little when she’d gently smacked him, rubbing his arm for emphasis. “You’d really hit me?”

“I barely hit you.”

“Your precious husband? Whose birthday is coming up?”

He’d gotten a few kisses for that, and he remembered smiling all the rest of that day. Remembered a few other things too that usually followed after kisses.

Well that was a lie, he remembered all of them. Every little sound she’d made and how she had felt against him and around him. And he would be lying again if he said he wasn’t hoping that this week wouldn’t be filled with similar activities.

He let his arms fall back to his sides, trying to peer between the trees that surrounded the small area. Another bonus had been that this particular cabin had been quite secluded compared to the other few that were on this property. The trees completely blocked them off from view of the others, and the area around the cabin was blessedly quiet.

It made it feel that much more private, that much more special. It made him feel like they were the only two people in the entire world. That maybe they were the entire world.

He knew Rowan was his entire world, anyways. And he didn’t want to spend even a fraction of a moment sharing her attention with anyone else, even a fellow camper coming to say hello or asking them if they knew where some of the hiking trails were.

Gavin liked to think he wasn’t that selfish, at least not about most things. He didn’t usually think that much of himself, too focused on his missions or his work or the handful of hobbies that had kept him occupied in his lonelier days. But he was selfish when it came to her. He was selfish and greedy and he wanted all of her attention.

And it was his birthday, too. He didn’t usually make a fuss for his birthday, had often seen it come and go with no fanfare in his earlier years. But Rowan always tried to do something special. Took him on vacation and made him special dinners and treats and bought him gifts and kissed him until he was laughing and breathless and his heart was so full he thought it might burst.

She’d made him believe that he was allowed to be a little selfish. That he was allowed to be treated like he was special, that he could want to be treated special. And he did. If Rowan got so excited about his existence, then why couldn’t he?

And why couldn’t he be a little selfish? And want all of his wife’s attention?

She was his world, sunshine to his sky, light to cast off the shadows, warmth to banish the cold.

He crossed his arms, turning around and peering back at the doorway of the cabin. Speaking of his wife, where was she?

“Rowan?” He called, taking a step towards the door. “Is everything alright?”

“TURN AROUND!” She shouted, her head popping out of the doorway a moment later. “Gavin Bai, you turn around right now.”

He blinked, cocking his head to one side. “Why?”

“Gavin if you don’t turn around I will blindfold you.”

He arched a brow, the corner of his lip twitching. “I don’t believe you.”

“You think I wouldn’t try?”

“You think you could?”

She huffed, stepping out of the door and crossing her arms, mimicking his stance. “I do think I could.”

“And why’s that?”

She tipped her chin up. “I know where all your tickle spots are.”

He flinched, but quickly regained his composure, fighting against his smile. “Sweetheart, I know yours too.”

“You won’t be able to see me though once I get the blindfold on you!”

“If.”

She sighed, slumping against the doorframe and looking for all the world utterly dejected and devastated. “Babey, please. It’s for your birthday!”

He took a step towards her. “Then I really don’t want to turn around.”

She pouted, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve been preparing for ages, though. I want it to be a special surprise.”

He couldn’t hold back his smile anymore, his heart aching now. He loved her. Oh how he loved her. She was his air and his light and his everything. He was a lone tree and she was sunshine and she was filling him with warmth with life.

He wondered how she would feel if he asked to reschedule their plans for the day. If she would be okay to let him lay his head in her lap and run her fingers through his hair. Maybe he would ask her to sing to him, or to tell him about the books she’d been reading or the projects she’d been working on. Anything just to hear her voice. To be close to her.

“Gavin?”

Her voice drew him from his reverie, back into the present moment. To the afternoon sunshine and the cloudless sky and the gentle breeze that did little to cool the warm July air.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

A line formed between her brow and she straightened, coming towards him. “Thinking about what? Are you okay?”

He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them. She blinked, not realizing what he was doing until it was too late, until he had lifted her into his arms and pressed his face against her throat, trailing kisses over the pulse of her heart, sinking his teeth into her skin, earning a quiet gasp.

“Thinking of you,” he murmured, pulling away enough to meet her gaze, to catch her lips in a long, slow kiss. She tipped her head to the side, opening her mouth for him, sighing as his fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place.

His body felt warm, and he felt dizzy, lightheaded like he was drunk or like he’d been spun around in a carnival ride.

He broke away slowly, wishing he didn’t need air. Wishing he could kiss her forever. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed, her breath ragged as she tried and failed to gain control of herself.

Gavin couldn’t help smiling again, not when he noticed the way she’d hooked her legs around his waist, how she clung to him, how she seemed unwilling to let go.

“Do you want to put today’s activities on hold?” He asked, letting his voice drop an octave, letting it sound rough and warm, and maybe just the tiniest bit needy.

Not that he was only a tiny bit needy. He was always needy. He was always needy for her.

He slid his hand up her thigh, played with the hem of her dress, which had ridden up when she’d wrapped her legs around him. “Maybe we could do something just the two of us?”

Her chest rose and fell slowly, her eyes unfocused as they skated over his face. “Something?”

He couldn’t help smiling at the quiet neediness in her own voice, the way she had so quickly been robbed of all thought.

He slid his hand up higher, beneath her dress, tracing his finger against the soft skin of her thigh. “Something for just us.”

Colour bloomed across her face, the crimson of a sunset sky, her breath catching. She blinked, like she was struggling to process what he was saying.

He took one step back towards the cabin, then another. Leaned close so his words caressed her ear. “I think there’s something I’d like to unwrap early.”

Out of anything he could have said, those were the words that seemed to snap Rowan back into the present. She shook her head furiously, struggling to extricate herself from his arms, although he was loath to set her down. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to keep holding her. Why couldn’t he hold his wife in his arms?

But she was unwrapping her legs from his waist, wiggling until he finally relented and set her back on her feet. She glared up at him, her mouth pressing into a thin line.

“I planned out a special day today,” she whined, resorting to slumping her shoulders and pouting. “I wanted to make you happy.”

“I’m always happy with you,” he murmured, ducking his head to find her eyes. “No matter what we’re doing I’m always happy with you.”

“I just want to make your birthday special.”

“It always is as long as I have you by my side.”

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and Gavin grinned, delight dancing through his chest like sunshine over rippling ocean waves.

“We can continue later,” he murmured, grasping her chin gently and lifting it up, so he could see her face clearly, so he could see the beautiful blush that crept over her face.

She nodded, looking like she was at a loss for words once more.

He arched a brow, trying and failing not to laugh. But it was hard when she looked like that, still so flustered. “Wasn’t there something you were doing before?”

A line formed between her brow as she thought for a moment, then gasped, her eyes lighting up as she remembered. “Yes! And you have to turn around! And close your eyes!”

He chuckled, deciding that this time he would oblige. He turned around, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I’m ready! How long do you need?”

“Just wait until I tell you it’s okay.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She sighed, long and loud. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I’m the luckiest person in the universe to be loved by you.”

He was sure her cheeks were an even brighter red now, and he smiled wider, earning a light smack as she walked past him.

“You’d hit me on my birthday?!”

“It’s not your birthday yet,” she said, pinching his side as she passed him.

“I’ll get you back for that,” he teased, letting his voice drop low again.

“I’m sure you will,” she sang, as if he’d told her he would buy her flowers.

He should buy her flowers, now that he was thinking about it. He hadn’t bought any flowers in a while, and she loved to press them and hide them in books around the house.

It was a little like a scavenger hunt, and every time he found one he couldn’t help smiling. It always felt like a little piece of sunshine that she’d tucked between the pages, brightening up the day whenever one was found.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now!”

He did, spinning around to find her standing by their car, her smile filled with mischief.

“So when do I get to see my surprise?”

She rolled her eyes, moving towards the passenger seat. “That would ruin it! What’s the point of a surprise then?”

He sighed, although he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He doubted he would be able to pry any details from her. For now he would just have to yield to her decisions.

And anyways he would find out soon enough. If Rowan was packing everything in the car that meant whatever the surprise was would be brought with them today.

Although that was little consolation when he could feel himself itching to know what exactly she’d hidden.

He didn’t know what had happened; he’d used to be disciplined and patient. He should have been able to hold himself back, push the surprise from his mind while he focused on the parts of the day he did know about.

Although maybe it had to do with how he looked forward to every new day now. Every new moment. Maybe it had to do with how there was always something that made him smile now. That made glad he was alive, that made him so very happy he was alive.

He was pretty sure it had to do with Rowan. It was as if she was springtime sunshine, melting away the last vestiges of winter to make way for the explosion of colour and life that bloomed in its wake.

He’d remembered liking things, he’d remembered loving things. But everything had been just a little grey, a little ashen. Food tasted plain, colours seemed dull. Even blood red roses and fiery sunset skies had seemed faded and lackluster. Music, something he had loved since he was a child, the piano or his bass or even just bright songs on the radio, had seemed muted, had touched his heart. But never much more. Like a breeze rustling his jacket rather than a storm that tore at his very being.

Like his world had been washed out, or perhaps like he had been underwater. The world muffled and dulled.

But everything was vibrant now, everything was loud and brilliant and bright. She’d stepped into his world and brought colour rushing in after her. Sunrise and sunset were fire. He couldn’t remember food tasting as good as it did now. Even the littlest things brought him joy, making him feel like his heart might burst with the happiness that spilled through him.

Sometimes he would find himself staring at some beautiful flowers, or seeing something pretty in a shop window, or listening to a soft melody, and his chest would grow so warm he was sure a star was blooming to life inside of him. He would think of her, of her smile and her laugh. Of the way she would grip his hand and tell him how pretty something was. How she would cling to him after and chatter away about whatever was on her mind.

Although sometimes now he would catch himself just admiring things around him. Lakes and trees and flowers and sky. The warmth of a cup of coffee against his palms. The sweetness of a pastry or treat on his tongue. The softness of a blanket against his skin. A cool, refreshing wind rustling through his hair.

The world was big and it was bright and it was beautiful. They were things he’d always known, but now they were things he really felt.

Perhaps that was why he was so impatient now, wanting to peek at whatever Rowan had hidden away for his birthday. There was so much that made him happy now. So much that made him excited.

He felt a little like a child, if he were being honest. Like his body was too small for the sunshine and the happiness in his chest.

“Gavin?”

Rowan’s voice drew him from his thoughts, back into the present. She took a step towards him, her head cocked to the side. “What are you thinking of?”

He smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “I was thinking of you.”

She blinked, her cheeks the soft pink of a cherry blossom, her voice catching as she asked “me?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “You.”

“Was it good things?”

He closed his eyes, chuckling at the squeak in her voice. “Very good things.”

“Like what?”

He arched a brow, opening his eyes to peer up at her impishly as she tried and failed to look disinterested.

“Like that I love you,” he breathed, leaning forward so he could press his brow against hers. “That I love you with all that I am.”

Her hand tightened around his, her other hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. “I love you too.”

He grinned, leaning a little closer, so their lips nearly brushed as he spoke. “Enough to tell me about your surprise?”

She peeled away, shaking her head. “I love you so much that I won’t tell you.”

He sighed in defeat, letting his shoulders slump forward. “I guess there’s no winning.”

“It’s okay babey,” she cupped his face with both hands as she murmured his pet name, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “You’ll get to see it soon. And today and the next few days are all about you.”

He resisted the urge to point out that if they were all about him then she’d tell him what the surprise was. And she’d also postpone their plans for the day because he still desperately wanted to carry her back into the cabin and undo the little bows that held her shoulder straps in place, her dress pooling at her feet.

But he just smiled, enjoying the feeling of his cheeks being cradled in her hands. He would have everything he wanted soon enough. And it gave him time to imagine all the different ways he would take her dress off and make her melt.

She kissed his brow so gently he sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she breathed, pulling away just barely. “Although we should probably get going. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

“I’m glad I get to spend it with you,” he said, drawing her back for one last kiss. “There’s no one I’d rather spend it with.”

He would have kissed her more, held her tight in his arms forever if he could. She fit so perfectly against him, her heart beating in tandem with his, her breath curling against his neck, her hands pressed against his back.

He didn’t think anything could ever make him as happy as being close to her did.

But eventually the embrace did have to end, although after he buckled himself into the car he made sure to reach out and squeeze Rowan’s hand. To remind her he was right there, but also to remind himself that she was close. That she was there with him. Beside him.

“Alright, do you know how to get there?” He asked, slowly driving the car down the small gravel road that took them to their cabin.

Rowan hummed, opening up a map on her phone. “Once you get out of the campground you’ll want to start by turning right.”

He reached out to thread his fingers with hers, the car barely going more than 10 kilometers as they drove over the rough, uneven road.

They were heading to a new space museum that was opening up in the fall. Rowan had somehow managed to swing tickets to an early access viewing of the exhibits, and they had decided it would make a perfect summer trip for his birthday.

Had it been a normal museum Gavin probably wouldn’t have cared either way, but this one boasted private planetarium rooms made with tech almost as advanced as what the STF was often working with. The entire galaxy and known universe would be able to be projected in the circular room, so close he could touch any one of the planets or stars.

The rooms were also to be booked privately, so there would be no one in there other than him and Rowan. As if they were completely alone in the universe.

There were some other interesting exhibits he’d thought sounded cool, about spaceships and the history of space travel, and strangely even an exhibit on how space was depicted in fictional stories.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t really excited for it. He’d always loved space and the idea of travelling through the stars. Of exploring different worlds and galaxies.

It was fantastical daydreams he’d had when he was a child, but they’d stuck with him even as he’d grown. And now here he was with the most important person in the entire world next to him, taking him somewhere his child self would have loved.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her voice tinged with worry as she leaned forward, squeezing his hand. “You look like you’re thinking about something serious.”

Gavin just shook his head, bringing Rowan’s hand to his lips and brushing a kiss against her knuckles. “Not at all. I was just thinking that I would have been very excited to go on this trip when I was a child.”

She gave him a funny look, arching her brow. “You think it’s childish?”

He chuckled, setting her hand down on her thigh. “No, no. I mean it’s something I would have loved. Had you taken little Gavin with you he would have been so happy.”

“Well what about big Gavin?” Her voice was soft as she spoke, and she reached out to tug at the sleeve of his shirt.

“Big Gavin is happier than he ever thought he would be.”

“He’s looking forward to today?”

He laughed, squeezing her hand. “He’s very excited for today.”

Rowan beamed, covering the top of his hand with hers. “I am too! I can’t wait to see the planetarium rooms! I wonder what galaxies we’ll be able to see.”

Hu hummed, pretending to be in thought. She was his everything, and if all he saw was her, then he would get to see the entire universe in that little room.

Although he wasn’t quite sure how to say that. Wasn’t quite sure if he could.

Even after years of dating and marriage and sharing whispered words late into the inky night, there were some things he still struggled to say. They would catch in his throat, his tongue struggling to form words that wouldn’t come.

He loved her though. He loved her so much. So he just squeezed her hand again, hoping it would convey everything he was feeling in that moment, everything he had felt since she had chosen to be a part of his life.

She squeezed his hand back, as if she understood completely. It made his heart grow warm, made his veins fill with sunshine gold. To be understood so entirely, even without words. He hadn’t known it was possible. Hadn’t known anyone would be by his side, would have worked so hard to remain by his side, to know him, to understand him, to love him.

He cleared his throat as a lump began to form, turning his eyes to the road as they emerged from the campground and turned onto the main road that would take them to the highway. “Where do I go next?”

“You’ll want to hop on the highway soon. Then it looks like we’ll ride that for a few hundred kilometres.”

He nodded, turning on his signal. “And you’re sure?”

“I’m sure!”

“You’re really sure?”

She pouted, crossing her arms and leaning away from him, towards the passenger side door. “That happened a long time ago, Babey! It was an accident!”

He snorted, remembering the “accident” in question. Rowan had read the directions wrong when they had been on their way to a new restaurant she’d been very excited to try. They’d made it to their reservation with ten minutes to spare, but not before going down every side street in the city and somehow ending up in the best parking spot in the miniscule parking lot of the restaurant.

He’d teased her about it since then, and if he were being honest it was a little funny. How was it possible to get completely lost and arrive early? He’d never done that before in his entire life. And yet somehow Rowan had, and it had brought him so much happiness he’d had to cover his face to stifle the laughter that bubbled through him.

“Don’t be like that pumpkin,” he cooed, squeezing her leg before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Maybe we’ll arrive early.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “That was some weird freak of nature. I’m pretty sure there must have been a tear in the universe we drove through that got us there.”

“Maybe that’s your evol,” he teased, flicking his eyes to the side to find her resolutely staring out the passenger side window.

“Getting lost?” He could hear the pout in her voice, and he was tempted to pull over just to kiss it away.

“Teleporting maybe? Or bending reality to create something like warp travel?”

She spun around, her eyes wide. “You mean kind of like wormholes? In space?”

He grinned. “Exactly!”

“Babey, you’re such a dork. That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His face grew warm and he coughed, focusing on the road ahead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Only that of course you would come up with such a cute idea for an evol. And that it would be like something out of a sci-fi movie!”

His cheeks grew warmer still, the heat crawling up the sides of his face and his ears. “But I’m your dork, right?”

“Of course,” she sang, leaning towards him, folding her arms over the armrest between them so she could lean closer. “You’re my Gavin, my dork. And you make me so happy.”

He coughed again, scratching at the back of his neck, although he was unable to wipe away the smile that tugged at his lips. He was coming desperately close to pulling the car over so he could cup her face and kiss her until she was breathless.

“I’m so happy I was able to get tickets to this museum,” she said, falling back against her seat. “I keep checking their social medias and they keep posting about all these new exhibits. I feel like we’re going to walk out of there professionals in space facts!”

He hummed, happy to listen to her chatter away, happy to listen to her voice.

“Maybe we can buy degrees from the gift shop.”

“I doubt they’d have something like that,” he said, quirking a brow. “You can’t just buy a degree from a gift shop.”

“Not with that attitude!”

He snorted, turning back to the road.

“Oh, but that reminds me we’ll definitely have to get some things from the gift shop! So we can remember this trip!”

He doubted he would ever forget it. Every moment with her was so very precious, and every memory shared with her was kept safely in his heart, polished and shined so he would never forget.

“We can get whatever you want,” he murmured, imagining her running around a display of space-themed plushies. Maybe there would be some stuffed planets and stars, or little alien dolls.

“Not for me, babey, for you!”

He couldn’t help arching his brow again, peeking at her from the corner of his eye in bemusement. “You mean you wouldn’t want to buy any stuffed animals?”

She crossed her arms, tipping her chin up and closing her eyes as she feigned haughtiness. As if she didn’t cave within seconds of seeing a cute stuffed animal. “It depends.”

“A stuffed planet? A meteor? A star?”

She cracked open one eye to peer at him. “Do you think they have those?”

He grinned wider. “Well if they do, I’ll get them for you.”

She sighed in defeat. “Well maybe I want to buy you things, too. It is your birthday after all.”

“I don’t need anything,” he said. “I just need you by my side, that’s it.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “The only thing I need is you. Is sharing today with you.”

“What about things that you want?”

He rolled his eyes. “I want to spend today with you, Rowan. All I want is to spend my time with you.”

“Okay,” her voice was soft as she bobbed her head. “Well for the record I want to spend all my time with you. I want to share every single moment with you.”

And if that was the only gift he ever received, was being with her, being beside her, then it would truly be the best gift of all.

***

Gavin couldn’t help gaping a little as they got out of the car, staring up at the strange shape of the museum.

He would be lying if he said he’d been to many museums, but the ones he’d seen had always been square or rectangular, the outer walls made of bland grey concrete, usually with colourful banners unfurled over the drab colour advertising their exhibits.

But this one was a bit different. From where they stood in the parking lot the exterior of the building looked strangely circular, with cylindrical protrusions on either side. It looked sleek and white, reminding him of the interior of the STF, all smooth surfaces and flashing neon lights. There were markings on the sides he couldn’t quite make out, something that looked like a string of numbers, although he wasn’t entirely sure.

“It looks like a spaceship!” Rowan sang, clapping her hands. “Oh it’s so cool already and we haven’t even gotten inside!”

He tipped his head to the side, reassessing the building. He supposed Rowan was right, it did look a bit like a spaceship. Like something out of the newer Star Trek movies, maybe.

“Are you excited?” She asked, drawing him from his thoughts as she took his hand. “I wonder what the inside will look like if the outside looks like a spaceship!”

Her excitement was infectious, and Gavin couldn’t help grinning as he squeezed her hand in return. Her smile was as bright as any star, her eyes shining, filled with galaxies of light.

Oh he loved her so much, he thought his heart might burst.

“I’m so excited,” he breathed.

“Okay okay! Let’s go, I want us to get in early!”

“I thought the museum wasn’t open to the public yet.”

“It’s not,” she said, rifling through her bag until she found their VIP tickets. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t lots of people who were invited to this early opening, though. And I don’t want to be stuck behind some pompous rich people or a couple of scientists who are just going to say the information isn’t good enough!”

She tugged on his hand, spinning around to face him. “I want to read everything in here! And I want to take tons of photos of you.”

“What about photos of you?” He cocked his head to the side, dragging her closer before she ran into a parked car.

“But this is for you!”

“Well I want photos of you, too,” he said, enunciating his words very carefully, and extra slowly, making sure to emphasize want. He wanted photos of her. He wanted to remember the little details of today.

“Are you sure? I’m not really that good in photos.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “You’re always so beautiful. I want to remember every single moment with you.”

Her voice was small when she spoke again. “Okay, if you’re sure. But I want pictures of you too.”

He squeezed her hand, tucking it around his arm to keep her close. “As you wish.”

There were only a handful of people milling around outside the museum, snapping a few photos and peeking around the delicate gardens that had been set up on either side of the walkway leading to the entrance.

Rowan crouched down and plucked a flower with light blue petals, straightening to quickly twine it in Gavin’s hair. “There we go.”

His face flushed, and he lifted a hand towards the flower. “What’s that for?”

“A gift! For the most important person here today!”

He pulled the flower from his hair, tucking it into hers instead. “I think you would look much better with this.”

“But you’re so handsome, Gavin, you’re always so handsome.” She pouted, running her fingers lightly over his arm. “You don’t want my gift?”

“Of course I do,” he murmured, trying and failing to ignore the way he shivered beneath her touch. “Will you hold onto it for me? You look very beautiful with it.”

Her face turned crimson, and she bobbed her head, her voice a quiet squeak as she said “yes.”

He grinned, pulling his phone out and snapping a picture of her before she could stop him.

“What was that?” She demanded, reaching for his phone. “What did you just do?”

“I told you,” he teased, tucking it back into his pocket. “I want photos of you, too. So I can always remember.”

As if he would ever forget. As if he could ever forget a moment with her.

She heaved a very long, very tired sigh before jabbing a finger against his chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He tipped his head to the side, his starry eyes alight with mischief. “You think I’m cute?”

Rowan opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Had it not been for his tone, she would have said yes, of course. Because of course she thought he was cute. She had to stop herself from squishing his cheeks between her hands most days because she thought he was so cute. From biting him because he was so cute. But he was very clearly teasing her, and any words she might have said vanished from her mind.

She snapped her mouth shut, running her hands over the front of her dress to smooth out a few wrinkles, before turning on her heel and walking towards the door.

“Come on, pumpkin,” he whined, catching up with her quickly.

He took her hand, tugging her against his side before slipping his arm around her waist. If she looked up she would know he was grinning, but she was not exactly brave enough to look up at him. They had been together for years and yet still every time she looked at him it was like she was falling in love with him all over again. Her legs turning watery, her heartbeat fluttering, her breath catching.

And the impish smile she knew was on his face would do little to assuage that feeling. Instead she was certain her body would give out on her completely and she would keel over, knocking her head on the pavement. Like a Victorian woman suffering from a bout of the vapours.

Although she had not brought any smelling salts, so she had no idea how she would be roused from such a state.

It was probably safer to just not look up at him.

Which was so much harder than it should have been. Because when Gavin wanted attention, he demanded it. And she could already feel his hand squeezing her waist, his thumb stroking her side idly while his other hand brushed against the bottom of her chin.

“Now you won’t even look at me?” She could hear the pout in his voice now, although she could picture the way the corners of his lips would be turned up, his eyes bright as stars.

“I miss you.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere, babey,” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

The pad of his index finger tapped against her chin. “Won’t you look at me? On my birthday?”

How could she say no to that? How could she ever say no to him?

So Rowan turned and looked at Gavin, looked at her beautiful, kind husband. At his sunbright eyes and his gentle smile and the soft dusting of colour that still stained his cheeks.

Her knees did in fact feel weak, her face burning and her head spinning and her pulse racing as she met his gaze.

Hopefully if she fell Gavin would catch her, because she didn’t trust herself to walk steady in his presence.

“I do think you’re cute,” she said, her voice soft. “I think you’re so wonderful, and handsome, and adorable.”

His grin widened. “I think you are, too.”

She was pretty sure she would have kissed him right then and there if a particularly noisy group hadn’t started making their way towards them. They sounded like a group of scientists, discussing numbers and calculations and whether the museum would feature newer discoveries regarding the universe and using all sorts of words Rowan didn’t know.

Gavin gently guided her to the side to let the group pass before they continued making their way to the entrance. He lowered his mouth to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “To be continued.”

She nodded, letting herself be guided up the path to the entrance. She handed their tickets to the staff member standing by the door, who hole punched the tickets before handing them back before opening the door for them.

A blast of frosty, air conditioned air greeted them as they stepped inside a large, circular room. Signs cluttered the walls, and small clusters of people chatted softly amongst each other, pointing to words on glossy, colourful pamphlets.

“Where do you want to start?” Gavin asked, surveying the room. There were signs pointing to the bathrooms, the gift shop, and a table piled high with more of those colourful pamphlets.

Rowan grabbed one immediately, cracking it open. “Hmm, it doesn’t look like there’s a map in here.”

Gavin hummed, squeezing her hand. “There’s a hallway up ahead. Maybe we can follow that?”

She looked up from the pamphlet to where he was pointing, a seemingly plain hallway that took a sharp right and disappeared completely from sight.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” He asked.

“What if we get abducted by aliens? And separated?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’d find my way back to you.”

“You promise?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s quite a silly question, Rowan. Of course I promise.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into him.

“Besides,” he continued, pulling away. “I would never let anyone separate us.”

“Not even aliens?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

That was a relief, although she doubted they were going to get abducted by aliens anytime soon. Or maybe they were, considering the hallway had curved to the right, the walls a stark white with bright, nearly blinding lights, and still she wasn’t sure where they were going.

Perhaps they were walking onto an alien spaceship, and they were about to be abducted. Spirited away to some unknown planet where they’d have to fight to make their way back home.

Rowan tightened her grip on Gavin’s hand, pressing closer against him as a shiver raced through her.

“Cold?” He asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and rubbing her bare arm. “Maybe we should have brought sweaters. I hadn’t really thought about that.”

She narrowed her eyes, remembering the soft pleading from him that morning, saying he thought one of her new dresses would look so beautiful, and wouldn’t it be nice if she wore it.

“And what exactly had you been thinking about?”

His ears turned bright red and he scratched at the back of his neck, quickly looking away. “Nothing much.”

“Now who’s the one who won’t look at me?”

Rowan was starting to wonder if maybe they should turn around when they were greeted with a pure white gangplank, leading up towards a dark, heavy curtain.

“Keep holding my hand,” he murmured, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles, sending butterflies cascading through her chest. “In case there’s any aliens trying to abduct us.”

She nodded, stifling a giggle as they headed up the gangplank and pushed past the curtain.

To Rowan’s delight it was not an attempted alien abduction. Instead, they found themselves at the beginning of one of the first exhibits in the museum. A beautiful, shining room with walls that seemed to glitter and glow. It took Rowan a moment for her eyes to adjust, and only then did she notice that there were millions of little model stars dangling from the ceiling, reflecting the lights, making the room feel so impossibly huge and bright.

“Oh wow,” she murmured, still clinging to Gavin’s hand. “They’re so bright.”

He hummed, shielding her eyes. “Careful not to look at them too long. I don’t want you to hurt your eyes.”

“I mean it’s hard to escape them,” she said, peering curiously around the room, wondering where they should start.

“You can always lean your face against my chest for a minute,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I might take you up on that.”

She would definitely be taking him up on that soon, she could guarantee it. For now, though, she wanted to see some of the cool displays and exhibits, and she wanted to get as many photos of Gavin as she could.

They ended up starting with an exhibit displaying the birth of the universe. Whoever had designed it had chosen to depict the different theories for how the universe was born with colourful, scaled down dioramas. It was only the diorama big bang itself, the explosion that created everything, that was massive. It was taller than both of them, reaching up towards the starry ceiling, meant to illustrate the sheer size of it. The sheer power that created everything.

Rowan snapped a picture of Gavin as he read one of the placards, his brow furrowed in thought, his mouth moving silently as he scanned the words slowly, taking it in. She felt her heart soaring, higher than the domed ceiling covered in crystalline stars. He looked content, he looked happy. The light catching in his eyes, making them glow with an almost childlike wonder.

He seemed to radiate excitement, like he was his very own star, glowing with warmth and the most brilliant light.

Rowan forgot where she was for a moment, too lost in thought, too happy as she watched his lips move, his eyebrows shoot up. He was pointing to something new he was reading, his cheeks flushed. He was crossing his arms, smiling broadly, his hair spilling over his brow as he tipped his head to the side. She wanted to memorize every part of that smile, from the wrinkles around his eyes to the little dimple that appeared in his cheek to the shade of pink that bloomed in his cheeks like rosebuds.

She took another picture, not really caring if it was silly or not. She loved him, she loved him so much. She didn’t want to forget a single moment with him. Couldn’t bear the thought of this memory fading from her mind.

She lowered her arm to tuck her phone back into the little heart-shaped purse at her hip to find Gavin peering at her curiously, a bemused smile on his lips.

“What are you taking a picture of?” He asked, uncrossing his arms to take her hand again.

“You,” she said, her voice small as she let him draw her closer.

“I’m sure there are much more interesting things to be taking pictures of,” he said, casting his gaze around the starlit room. There were massive installations meant to depict stars and planetary explosions, and further away she could see paintings and beautiful artist renderings of the planets. There were multiple hallways branching off from the large room they were in, with displays she couldn’t quite see and colourful lights illustrating what would be in the following rooms.

It was all truly marvellous and beautiful and like nothing she had ever seen before.

And yet it all truly paled in comparison to the man before her. To his gentle smile, to the warmth in his eyes. He was completely incomparable. More precious and amazing than any star.

“No,” she breathed, squeezing his hand. “There’s nothing that can compare to you.”

He blinked, his blush deepening. Then he coughed, his gaze dipping down, his bangs falling so they covered his eyes.

“Gavin,” she reached out to cup his cheek, gently tipping his face back up. “Won’t you look at me?”

He did, although he looked a little sheepish, and his ears were the red of sweet, ripe tomatoes.

“I love you. Nothing in this room can hold a candle to you.”

His expression softened, his hand reaching up to cover hers. “I love you, too. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“It wasn’t luck,” she said. “You were just you. You were Gavin, and how could I not fall in love with you?”

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He looked serene, he looked happy, comfortable. Safe.

She stroked his cheek softly, savouring his closeness for a few moments. They would need to move soon, she could hear voices growing louder, coming from that long curving hallway that led to the entrance of the exhibits. More people were starting to arrive, and they would be clamouring to get photos and absorb as much of the information as the museum could offer.

But for just a moment longer they could stand like this, virtually alone in the shimmering, shining room. Content to be close to the other, trying desperately to etch this moment into their memories.

Gavin tilted his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of Rowan’s palm before twining his fingers with hers and gently peeling her hand away. “What would you like to take a look at next?”

She hummed, spinning around as she observed the different installations and displays. “We could look at the one about star births! There’s something that looks really cool over there!”

He nodded, letting her lead him across the room. Similar to the exhibit they had just looked at, there were artistic models of all the different kinds of stars. Blue stars and white dwarfs and red giant stars and stars just like the sun that gave light to their own world.

He read the placards carefully, reciting the words out loud for Rowan, humming as he turned the information over in his mind. The beginning of the exhibit gave relatively simplistic information, facts that were easy to find when looking online or when taking an introductory astronomy class. But the further you moved into the maze of star sculptures and displays, the more detailed the information. Like they were trying to ease visitors into understanding the basics of astrophysics before using more complex terms and explaining things in much more detail.

Gavin had never really been one for complex sciences, and had often felt his brain grew messy and tangled if he tried to make sense of any of it. But he liked this, he liked the way it helped him mitigate so much of that confusion and frustration. He felt like he understood almost everything he read, and he couldn’t help beaming every time he straightened, feeling like a child again. Feeling as excited as he used to whenever he got to look up at the stars with the old telescope he’d used to own.

And more than anything else, he liked that Rowan was beside him. He would read something out loud to her and she would gape, the starlight from the hundreds of crystal stars hovering above their heads shining in her eyes, like she was made of galaxies.

She brushed her hand against his back as she leaned forward, her brow furrowed as she peered at a spinning, miniature reproduction of a star. It was an interactive display, and she gasped as she reached out to touch it.

“It’s so warm!”

Gavin chuckled, listing his hand to let it hover over the star. “It is. But stars are supposed to be warm.”

Like her. Like the way she made his own heart feel when he woke up every morning and saw her still sleeping face. Her cheek smushed against the pillow, her hair a messy halo around her head. Her bangs sticking up at awkward angles that made him smile as he smoothed them out.

Perhaps she was a star. Or maybe she was a galaxy of stars. There was no other explanation for the warmth and the happiness he felt when she was close by.

“Here, put your hand on this one,” he said, taking her hand and setting it atop another star, this one a fiery red. “It’s still warm, but it’s a bit cooler.”

She bobbed her head, seeming starstruck. “That’s so cool.”

He chuckled, pointing to a bright blue star next to it. “Now try that one.”

She reached out to press her hand to the blue star, only to yank it back with a gasp. “That one’s almost too hot to touch!”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm to ease the discomfort from the heat. “You’re right. Blue stars are the hottest stars in the universe.”

She blinked, turning back to the little model, her cheeks turning pink from the heat that radiated from it. “That’s incredible. That kind of star could keep lots of planets warm!”

He bobbed his head. “Theoretically, I think it could.”

He had liked researching about space when he’d been younger, hours slipping away as he’d read books and internet articles about space, the planets, the stars that bloomed in the sky every night. He couldn’t remember all of the details, though, about the stars, but he did remember once reading about how stars had to be in perfect position from planets to warm them, and to sustain life. Not only that, but there were different kinds of stars that could and could not sustain the growth and life of a planet like theirs.

“I’m not sure, though,” he admitted, furrowing his brow. “It might not last that long. The hotter and brighter the star the shorter its life.”

Rowan hummed thoughtfully, looping her arm through his. “I suppose that would make sense.” She wrinkled her nose. “Although it’s really hard for me to wrap my head around. Millions of years not being enough to sustain the life of a planet.”

He chuckled. “It is quite hard to picture it.”

“If there are other planets that have life on them, do you think they’re like ours?” She asked, pausing to peer at a diagram explaining the “goldilocks zone” and why it was so important to sustain life. “Do you think the people living on it would be quite different?”

He hummed. “I guess it would depend on their sun, and the environment.”

She leaned against him, sighing. “It would be really cool if we knew for sure there were other planets in the universe with life.”

“I’m sure there are. There would have to be. The universe is too big for there not to be.”

He peered over at her, watching her as she scanned the diagram, chewing on her bottom lip as she went over the information. “Although, I think our planet is best.”

She narrowed her eyes, looking up at him curiously. “Why is that?”

“Because it has you.”

Her eyes widened a little, her mouth opening in a small o.

“Gavin…” She trailed off, her voice lilting softly through the air, reminding him of a leaf twirling slowly to the ground.

“You’re the most beautiful thing in the entire universe,” he said, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her brow. “I know nothing else out there could compare to you.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder, and he could hear the pout in her voice as she whined. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday.”

He chuckled, running a hand over her hair. “And why is that?”

“Because you can get away with saying sweet things like that!”

“I’m only telling you the truth. And the sweetest thing here is you, pumpkin.”

She grumbled wordlessly, glaring at him as she peeked up. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, and he considered what her retaliation might be.

Maybe she would say something equally as sweet that would make his face burn and his stomach dip like he was being thrown from a cliff.

Maybe she would kiss him until he felt a little breathless and then act like nothing had happened.

Or maybe she would step on his foot. Or pinch his waist. Or reach for the ticklish spot that her hand was awfully close to and-

He grabbed her hand before she could make her move, snorting as he held onto it tightly. “It’s my birthday, Rowan.”

“And?” She asked, her voice light and saccharine as she smiled at him just a little too sweetly. “I was going to make you smile.”

“You make me smile by being here beside me,” he murmured, his free hand wrapping around her back and slowly edging upwards.

She opened her mouth to respond, but then her eyes widened and she gasped, snorting as laughter bubbled from her mouth.

Gavin grinned in triumph as she wrenched away from him and he lost his hold on her most ticklish spot. “And I can’t help smiling when I hear your laughter.”

“That is not fair,” she groused, crossing her arms.

“But it’s my birthday,” he whined, trying to reach for her. “I thought I could have anything I wanted.”

She glared at him, stepping away. “Within reason.”

“I would say hearing your laugh and seeing your smile are more than reasonable.”

She scrunched her face up, lifting her shoulders up as her whole body tensed.

Gavin couldn’t help laughing at the sight, covering his mouth with one hand and reaching out to her with the other. “Come on, princess. Don’t be like that.”

She let her face relax, sighing as he took her hand and drew her through a display of stars. “I can’t say no to you.”

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, her words making his heartbeat stutter and stumble, like a child still learning to walk. Did she know how much her words meant to him? Did she know that even the simplest, smallest things she said made him feel like he was filled with the light of a million stars?

He paused, tilting his head as he took in one of the displays. “Does that mean you won’t say no if I ask to take your picture?”

She turned to look at the display he had his eye on. A brilliant explosion of light, an artist’s rendition of a star exploding into life. The colour seemed to leap from the canvas, and Gavin could make out the texture of the paint from where he stood, making the fire and starlight seem so real he was sure that if he reached out to touch it that it would burn his hand.

He turned back to her, fixing the flower that he had tucked into her hair. “It just reminds me a little of you.”

Beautiful. Warm. Brilliant. His Rowan. His own star.

She tipped her head to the side, but she nodded, letting him take her picture next to the painting.

He was grinning as he tucked his phone away before taking her hand again. “Alright. Where to next?”

“Well I picked last time, so why don’t you choose next?”

Gavin hummed, wondering what to do next. And then he spotted a sign pointing to an exhibit all about space travel, and knew exactly where he wanted to go next.

There were spaceships in this next room. Replicas, of course, he knew it was unlikely they would have the remains of some of the most famous spaceships in history. But the replicas were astounding, lifesize models that reached towards the ceiling, seeming to vanish into the cluster of false stars that swathed the ceiling.

“Oh wow,” Rowan said, her head twisting from side-to-side as she took it all in. “These are huge.”

He nodded, drifting towards one of the closest spaceships, what would have been the ship for one of the first expeditions into space in history.

He couldn’t help imagining getting to be one of the crew members on one of those expeditions. Soaring out past the clouds, reaching towards the stars, unravelling the mysteries that still surrounded their own universe.

His heart ached a little. He didn’t regret what he did. He knew he’d made the right choice, working hard every day to keep his city safe. To keep everyone safe. To keep his Rowan safe.

But still, sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from dreaming a little. Dreaming about if he’d chosen a different path. If he’d chosen exploration and adventure instead.

He didn’t realize Rowan had moved so close, too wrapped up in his own thoughts as he gazed up at the hulking spacecraft. Didn’t notice as she snapped a photo of him, his mind swimming with all the possibilities of who he could have been.

What would his younger self have said, had he stood before a spaceship when he had been young?

That he wanted to be an astronaut, no doubt. That he wanted to touch the stars, wanted to bring one back to show his mom.

His eyes burned, although no tears came. She would tell him she was proud of him, and that if it made him happy he could be whatever he wanted. That she would be proud of him, that she would support him no matter what.

There were arms around his waist then, the steady warmth of Rowan’s body pressing against his back. She remained silent as she held him, but Gavin couldn’t help sinking into her embrace, letting himself be weak for just a moment as he closed his eyes, fighting against tears that turned exhibits around him murky.

His mother would have loved to take him here. Would have held his hand and pointed out all the cool things and told him how smart he was, how brave he was for dreaming of space.

He missed her. He missed her so much.

His hands fell to Rowan’s, still wrapped around his waist.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice gravelly and rough.

“I love you too,” she breathed, her chin resting on his shoulder, her breath curling against his neck. He felt her lips brush against his skin, over where his pulse thrummed in its unending beat.

“Do you want to go?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, I just need a moment.”

She kissed him again, tightening her grip around his waist. She didn’t need to say anything to show that she understood, that she knew what he was thinking of. That she would be here for him always, without question.

She anchored him, brought him back into the moment, back into the world around him. Reminded him that he was loved, that he was precious, that he had someone who was proud of him just for existing. Just for being him.

He let himself take a moment, let himself be enveloped in Rowan’s arms, in her warmth. She smelled like flowers, and cookies, and like the warm blankets they had snuggled into the night before. He felt himself relax, felt the tears begin to abate.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice still rough as sandpaper, the words feeling strange and foreign on his lips.

“I love you,” she murmured, pressing her face against his neck, her words turning muffled as she repeated herself against his skin. “I love you.”

He smiled, the heaviness that had washed over him beginning to disappear, like ocean waves drawn back by the tide.

He was certain his mother would have loved Rowan. Would have been so happy to know he was loved by someone like her. That he loved her with all his heart. That she was his entire world.

He turned around, Rowan’s arms loosening at his waist as he moved. He cupped her face with his hands, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he breathed, so quiet only she would hear.

He wished he could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in his own little world, with Rowan’s arms around him. But the museum was beginning to grow louder as voices crescendoed through the building. More people were starting to arrive as the day grew longer and the sunlight turned to the bright, unrelenting gold of the afternoon.

He didn’t want to share this moment with anyone but Rowan. So, reluctantly, he slowly pulled away, smoothing her hair back and fixing the flower still tangled in her loose waves.

“Where to next?” He murmured, dropping his hand.

She peered over his shoulder, pointing back towards the spaceship. “It looks like you can go inside the different ships! Do you wanna try?”

He nodded, taking her hand. Needing to hold onto her. “Yeah, let’s take a look.”

The inside of the ship was fascinating. He knew it wasn’t a real, functional ship, and yet it felt so real he was sure that if he looked out one of the windows he would see the earth far below him, hanging like a blue pendant in an ocean of darkness. They walked along metal walkways, their steps echoing in the silent craft, taking in the interior of the ship.

There was a miniature gym, a recreation room, sleeping quarters that looked far from comfortable, and even a small kitchen.

Rowan wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the cramped sleeping quarters, the multiple twin sized-bunk beds stacked on top of eachother like blocks.

“That doesn’t look comfortable at all,” she mused, taking a step into the world. “You can reach out and smack the person in the bed next to you.”

Gavin chuckled, stepping into the little room after her. It did feel a little claustrophobic. Although it wasn’t that much different than some of the bunks he had slept in during military training.

“I think our room is much better,” he said, hooking his arm around her waist.

“You’re right, it’s so much cozier. And our bed is bigger. And the blankets are so soft.” She sighed, leaning against him as she closed her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He teased, poking her side.

“I’m thinking I want to take a nap,” she said, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn. “That would be awfully nice I think.”

He nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. Curled up under a nice soft blanket with Rowan nestled safely in his arms. He would wear one of the soft, worn t-shirts she loved best. Or maybe he wouldn’t wear any shirt at all, so she could press herself as close as she could against him, squishing her cheek against his chest to listen to his heart. Maybe he would be able to coax her out of her dress too, the warmth of her body seeping into his, filling his veins with sunlight, spreading it throughout his entire body until it felt a little like he could glow.

He would pull the softest blankets they had over them both, cocooning them away from the harsh afternoon sunlight, the piercing scream of ringtones and alerts, the overwhelming cacophony of voices that filled most streets. Keeping them safe from anything that would dare try and intrude on their peace.

He kissed her cheek absently before they moved on to another one of the rooms in the ship. Perhaps he would try requesting a nice afternoon nap tomorrow. So that he could enjoy some time tangled in her arms, with nothing to do and nowhere to be.

He was smiling to himself when they reached the cockpit of the ship, a wide, rectangular room at the very front of the ship. Whoever had designed the exhibit and the replica ship had suspended the spaceship diagonally, so while they could walk on from the ground, by the time they reached the cockpit they were staring down from the ceiling of the exhibit, the glittering false stars casting wavering rainbows of light over the floor and the seats in the room.

“It’s like we’re really in space!” Rowan sang, rushing to the front of the room, gaping at the stars. ��Oh they’re so pretty, Gavin. Like miniature suns.”

He wished he could reach out and pluck them from the ceiling, like apples from a tree. He would choose the biggest one, the one that glittered the most, that cast prisms of light through the air and made Rowan’s eyes sparkle. And then he would gently set it in her hands, and he would watch as the crystal star was set alight by the brilliance of her smile.

“I wish I could just reach out and take one,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “I’d take two! So we could have matching ones!”

He brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “What would we do with them?”

She wrinkled her nose, frowning at the stars. “Maybe we could hang them in our room! Oh! Or I could hang one in my office and you could hang one in yours, and then when we look at them we’ll think about each other!”

For all his military training and all his daily workouts and exercises, Gavin felt himself turn a little weak. His knees wobbling like jelly, his heart overflowing like a too-full cup, his veins spilling over with fizzing light.

Did she know when he looked up at the stars he thought of her? Did she know that when he looked at the moon and thought of all the bright, twirling moons that surrounded the planets, he was thinking of her? His Rowan, his star, his moon.

He was worried his voice would crack if he said anything, like glass shattering across the floor, so instead he leaned his head against hers, breathing in the sweet, warm smell of his favourite person.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looping her arm around his waist.

“I’ve never been better,” he murmured, nuzzling his face against the side of her head. “I’m just thinking.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“It’s always good things when I’m with you, pumpkin.”

He could picture the colour of the blush surely creeping across her face now. The soft, sweet pink of the peonies they had planted in their backyard. Although she was so much sweeter, and so much prettier than a simple flower.

“You’re such a dork,” she muttered, her voice cracking. “You say such sweet things.”

“They’re nothing I don’t mean.”

She sighed, heavy her shoulders and up down as dramatically as possible. “Alright, well that just means I get to take my revenge on you.”

He pulled back, arching a brow curiously. “Revenge?”

She dipped her chin in a curt nod as she surveyed the room quickly. “Yes, my revenge. I am going to do something so sweet you’re not going to even know what to say.”

He snorted, letting her take his hand and guide him to one of the chairs bolted down in the mock cockpit. “And what’s that?”

“I will not be revealing my secrets any time soon.”

He pouted. Or at least he tried. He’d hardly stuck out his bottom lip before she’d leaned forward, her hand on his shoulder, and pressed her lips to his.

“No pouting! No pouting on birthdays,” she sang as she pulled away, her cheeks flushed. “It’s absolutely not allowed!”

He poked his bottom lip out again, doing his best to look as despondent as he could. He even drew his shoulders together, peeking up at her from beneath his lashes. “How will you fix it?”

Rowan laughed, leaning back down to kiss him again. Gavin dropped his act immediately, threading his fingers through her hair, his other hand wrapping around her waist and drawing her into his lap.

“This definitely fixes it,” he murmured, dipping his head to press kisses to her throat. “This makes things better.”

She whined softly, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep her breathing even. “Gavin, we’re in public right now.”

“No one’s here,” he breathed, kissing the spot above where her pulse thrummed.

“There’s probably cameras.”

He groaned, dropping his head to brush his lips against her shoulder, to gently sink his teeth into the soft, delicate skin.

Rowan gasped, her fingers digging into his own shoulders for a moment before he pulled away.

“Alright,” he said, leaning back, ignoring the way he could feel himself straining against his pants. “What were you going to do for your revenge?”

She blinked, looking completely lost for a moment. And then slowly light blazed in her eyes and she crawled from his lap, fixing him with a furious glare as she took several steps away from him.

“You’re an animal.”

He tipped his head to the side. “What kind of animal do you think?”

She grumbled something under her breath, pulling her phone out.

“What was that?” He asked, arching a brow.

Rowan huffed, pretending not to hear him.

“Come on, princess, won’t you tell me?”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, staring at him for a long, long moment. Then she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I said you remind me of a wolf sometimes.”

“Oh?”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t even try to think of anything.”

“I mean wolves are pretty territorial and-”

“No thinking!”

He would be lying if he said he was thinking about anything other than the pink of her cheeks and how her lips were just the tiniest bit swollen and how he could make out the red around the bite on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked, straightening as she lifted her phone.

“I’m taking a picture, babey. I said I wanted to take pictures of you!”

He lifted his brow higher, but let her direct him to sit and stand in different poses around the cockpit. He couldn’t help grinning as she fixed his jacket or pointed at different chairs or told him to stare out at the crystal stars. He didn’t really know what she was planning, but from the starlight in her eyes it was clear it was making her happy, which meant it made him so very happy, too.

Finally satisfied, Rowan gave one huge nod and shoved her phone back into her purse. “Okay! I am all done.”

Gavin took her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before twining their fingers together. “Did you have fun?”

“I always have fun with you.”

They walked from the false spaceship hand-in-hand, Gavin drawing Rowan closer against him as they passed by a large group of people trying to pile inside the exhibit.

“Looks like we checked that out at the perfect time,” he said, heading towards an exhibit that seemed to be focused on planets in their solar system. “We got our own private tour.”

“And I got some very handsome photos of you!”

Gavin’s face burned. “Will you show them to me?”

“Eventually.”

He couldn’t help laughing. Couldn’t stop himself from laughing; a huge, goofy grin tugging at his lips. It was such a simple, mundane thing, wandering around a museum with Rowan, pointing out different things, reading little placards and walls of info. Discussing some of the strange science facts that neither of them could wrap their heads around. Taking pictures while the other was turned around.

Or perhaps better yet taking what felt like a million poses as the other one instructed them on how to stand. Rowan running her fingers through Gavin’s hair, stating it wasn’t properly tousled as he stood before a spinning replica of Jupiter with its countless moons twirling around it like specks of confetti. Gavin smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as he snapped as many pictures as he could of her in front of a glittering interactive display of stars, their light catching in her eyes and making her glow.

It was so mundane and simple. The switching between taking photographs, pointing to different exhibits, dragging the other towards something that had caught their eye. And yet it felt so special to him, so incredibly important he couldn’t put it into words. Just a feeling that bloomed in his chest like the first springtime blooms. That washed over him like a slow creeping tide, sun-warmed and gentle and all-consuming.

He couldn’t count the number of times they’d done something similar. Museums and zoos and aquariums. Tours through snowy outdoor light shows that glittered beneath frozen stars. Trailing aimlessly through the burning oranges and fiery reds of autumnal corn mazes, gasping at statues and animatronics hidden in corners to scare any visitors.

They were all special. Everything was so special with her. Every moment like it’s very own unique gem.

No, he was certain each moment was more precious than diamonds and rubies and sapphires. Maybe it was more like stars. Fiery, powerful celestial forces that filled their sky with light despite how far away they were. Offering light and guidance even beneath the heavy cloak of night. Little pinpricks of hope scattered through the sky like glitter. Pieces of light that held wishes and promises within their pale, glimmering light.

That was what each moment was with his Rowan. It was light, and it was hope, and it was the promise of happiness today and more happiness tomorrow, all bottled up in her eyes and her smile and her arms.

Gavin slipped his arms around Rowan’s waist, pressing his face against the back of her head as they stood before a relatively boring display case showing pieces of moon rock that had been plucked from the moon and sent back down to Earth.

It was utterly amazing, he couldn’t deny that. But it was also pieces of grey rock, and it was bland and forgettable when his Rowan was right here. When she was standing right here and it was so easy for him to draw her into his arms.

She rested her hands over his, stroking his wrist with her thumb. “Do you wanna get something to eat? There’s a cute little cafeteria with snacks and then we can check out the science fiction exhibit and the planetarium rooms.”

He nodded, but his arms tightened around her, his words muffled as they tangled in her hair. “In a minute.”

They stood there for a few moments, a comfortable silence washing over them as strangers filtered out from the room, on the hunt for more exciting things to look at. The room grew quiet, the sound of footsteps and murmuring voices melting away until all Gavin could hear was the quiet rush of the air conditioning and the sound of Rowan’s breaths.

He held her tight for another long, long moment before finally letting go. He struggled with words most days, but knowing that she understood, that she could feel the emotions behind the actions he could do in lieu of sweet words warmed his heart, offered him a sort of solace he hadn’t known he’d needed until he met her.

She squeezed his hand as he made to pull away, twisting in his arms so she could meet his gaze, so she could reach up and cup his cheek with her free hand.

“I love you,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss his brow. “With all my heart.”

He covered her hand with his, feeling more at peace than he ever had in his life. Feeling more happiness than he knew what to do with.

“Come on,” she said, taking both his hands and guiding him from the room, following the signs pointing towards the cafeteria. “Let’s see if they have any food in the shape of a spaceship.”

***

In perhaps the most disappointing of events, there wasn’t a single food item in the shape of a spaceship. A fact Rowan lamented bitterly as she and Gavin searched for a quiet spot to sit and eat their lunch.

“The water bottles have space ships on them,” Gavin offered, pinching her side as she briefly pouted down at the array of treats on her tray.

“It’s not the same,” she groused. “It’s a space museum you’d think they’d make something spaceship shaped.”

“The pancakes are shaped like moons,” he offered, gesturing to the stack of strawberry and chocolate chip pancakes on one corner of her tray.

“They’re round. That’s a normal pancake shape.”

“Moons are also round! And planets.”

She quirked a brow as she reached over to try and pinch him right back. “I don’t think that counts.”

Gavin batted her hand away with ease, jabbing her in the side in retaliation. Her body convulsed as he prodded at one of her ticklish spots, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop a shriek of laughter from spilling from her lips.

“I think it does,” he murmured, a crescent moon grin arcing across his lips.

“Well how can I argue with the birthday boy,” she teased, scooting away as he arched a brow. “Whatever you say.”

He chuckled, reaching out to wrap his arm around her waist before she’d moved too far away, trying to draw her back to his side. “You’re too far away.”

“You pinched me!”

“You tried to pinch me.”

She didn’t put up a fight as he tugged her closer, her thigh bumping against his. “I only did that because you had already pinched me once.”

“You were pouting. I wanted to make you smile.”

Rowan glared at him, scrunching up her entire face even as he snorted.

“But I love your smile.”

His voice was so gentle she couldn’t hold onto her false scowl. His words were so soft, barely more than a whisper of a breath against her cheek as he leaned closer, cupping her face. They were laced with a quiet need, a want that stained his voice like the first blush of dawn in the grey of the early morning sky.

So of course she smiled, her heart warm, her body feeling a little like jelly. A little like it was melting beneath the amber of his gaze.

Colour bloomed in his cheeks, washed over his ears, reminding her of the beautiful snapdragons Gavin had given her on their last anniversary. His smile was as warm as the summer sun, his entire face softening as he looked at her.

She couldn’t help reaching up in kind, cupping his face in her palms, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. He had shaved the day before, and yet already she could feel the scratch of stubble against the pads of her thumbs. Was he really real? Was he really here in front of her, sitting next to her, holding her like she was precious? Was he really looking at her like she was the most important thing in his world? Was he really hers?

Sometimes Rowan had trouble believing it. She hated going to sleep more than anything, terrified she would wake up and every beautiful moment would be a dream. Every precious second with him, every shared memory, would vanish like mist beneath the morning sun.

But then she would wake up and there he would be, curled up against her or holding her close as he waited for her to open her eyes. There he would be, warm and strong and utterly, completely real. And then she would feel happiness so strong it would make her eyes burn and her throat constrict and she would snuggle against him, squeezing her eyes shut against the threat of those tears.

“What are you thinking?” He murmured, drawing her back to the present, to this moment with him beside her and his face still held between her hands. He covered her hands with his, the rough callouses on his palms scraping against her skin. “Are you okay?”

She chewed on the corner of her lip, nodding furiously as she struggled to stifle the tears burning her eyes.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded again, gently pulling his face closer so she could kiss his brow. “I’m just so happy you’re here. I’m so happy you were born.”

She didn’t see his expression, not as she dropped her hands and pressed her face against his shoulder. “I love you, Gavin.”

Rowan felt herself enveloped in his arms, felt him gently pull her against his chest, tucking her beneath his chin. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

“Really?” Her voice was little more than a squeak, but she couldn’t find a reason to care. She wanted to hold him so close, wanted him to know how truly happy she was that he was real, that he was alive. That he had been born and she could hold him and love him and listen to the warm laughter that reverberated through him.

“Really. I would never lie to you, my princess.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him as tight as she could, her chest aching. She remembered wondering if she would ever feel a shred of happiness again, if her heart would ever feel warm, if she would ever feel safe. And now her heart was so filled with sunkissed joy and candy coloured delight and so much love it felt like she might shatter into stardust and iridescent light.

Gavin hummed, stroking her hair gently. “Although looking at some of the exhibits here has got me thinking.”

Rowan peeled away from her hiding place against his chest, curiosity getting the better of her. “Thinking about what?”

He brushed her hair back from her face. “I was thinking about how if I’m Jupiter, then you must be my moon.”

“Jupiter has almost a hundred moons,” she pointed out, even as heat began to crawl across her body.

He furrowed his brow for a moment, considering her words. But then he just took one of her hands and brought her palm up to his mouth, so close she felt his lips against her skin as spoke. “Then you’re all the moons, every moon. Although…” He trailed off, pressing a kiss to her hand. “I don’t think a single one of them can compare to you.”

“I dunno, did you read some of the information about the moons?” She teased, her voice wavering as he kissed her palm again. “They’re pretty important. We only have one and it’s so important. And where would we be without Sailor Moon? She’s definitely saved the world.”

Gavin’s brows shot up, his eyes squeezing shut as he burst into bright, warm laughter. It sounded like sunshine, like the wind rushing through leaves, like the way happiness felt when she woke up to a gentle kiss every morning.

He snorted, covering his face as he continued to laugh, his hair tickling her face as his forehead knocked against hers.

Rowan couldn’t help grinning, his laughter infectious. “It wasn’t that funny.”

He shook his head, his nose bumping against hers as he held her face between his palms. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Her heart was soaring on gilded wings, lifted high by the warm July winds. She was melting, turning into a Rowan shaped puddle. The only reason she hadn’t completely fallen apart yet was because Gavin was holding her tight, keeping her upright even as her body wanted to turn to jelly.

“Was that really the funniest joke you’ve heard?” She asked, her voice so quiet it turned to smoke even as she tried to tease him. She didn’t have the heart to tease him that much right now, not when she still felt a little giddy and silly from his sweet words.

Gavin was always sweet, always kind, always ready to murmur a sweet nothing into her ear at the perfect moment. But it was always when she was least expecting it, and it always threw her off, sent her reeling as her heart turned to a flurry of gossamer winged butterflies.

His laughter slowly petered off, and he breathed softly for a moment, sighing as he leaned his weight against her. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she said, still feeling a little breathless from the delight in his laughter and his sweet words.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling away, smoothing back her hair. “We should eat, there’s still lots to see. And I’m starting to get very curious about my surprise.”

Rowan blinked, having almost completely forgotten about everything else that was happening, about all her plans that day. She looked around, realizing they were sitting in a rather cozy corner of the museum’s cafeteria, a low hum of voices floating towards them as other guests slowly filtered in to search for something to eat.

She frowned down at the food on her tray, still very much not spaceship shaped.

“Pumpkin, you need to eat. You haven’t eaten since before we left this morning,” Gavin chastised, pointing to her food.

She glared at him from the corner of her eye. “The shapes are boring.”

He didn’t bother responding before he grabbed her fork and knife and started cutting up the food on her plate. “Rowan if you don’t eat I’ll make sure you do.”

He held the fork out to her, a piece of fruit speared onto the tines. She knew he was giving her the option between feeding herself and being fed, and for a moment she considered being an absolute brat and refusing to take the fork from him. But that was something she would do in the comfort of their own home, not here, no matter how private their little corner felt. So she took the fork from his hands, earning a small smile as she took a bite.

Gavin squeezed her thigh, sounding pleased as he murmured a quiet “good girl.”

She almost smacked him, her entire body burning up as if she had been caught in a wildfire. She would have smacked him, if she were being honest, except that he grabbed her hand before she could even reel it back, smirking as a knowing light flickered in his eyes.

He brushed his lips against the pads of her fingers, his breath tickling against her skin as he spoke. “What are you thinking of?”

“Nothing,” she groused, glaring down at her food.

Snorting, Gavin released her hand.

“What do you want to go see next?” He asked, poking at his own food now.

Rowan fished the museum map out of her bag, smoothing out the wrinkles as she examined the exhibits splashed across the indigo coloured map like splatterings of paint. But before she could find the next exhibit she wanted to go to, her phone began to buzz.

Once. Twice. Three times. The signal her and her “teammates” for the day had agreed on.

Gavin arched a brow, curiosity seeping into his mind as he set down his fork. “Is everything okay?”

Rowan nodded, passing him the map. “Yeah, everything is great! Although I think I need to run to the bathroom really quick.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, unable to keep his suspicion from threading between his words. “You haven’t had a message all day, and now-”

Her phone buzzed three times again and she stood, shaking her head. “It’s nothing. It’s just a little reminder I set for myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. Rowan wasn’t exactly the best liar, and he had already committed all of her tells to memory. There was the way she breathed a little deeper, her chest rising and falling a little slower. Her eyes stayed locked on his face, but when she was talking her eyes normally would roam all over a room, pausing on his face only briefly before flicking elsewhere and back again. And she was much stiller than normal. Usually she was twisting a bit of fabric around her fingers, or she was pulling at the straps of her top, or tucking and untucking her hair, or bouncing her foot from side-to-side, or reaching out to play with his fingers.

It was like she was holding herself very carefully, like she was making sure she was in complete control of every motion and breath she made. Like she was telling herself to be “normal” and to not act “weird.” Even though this attempt at control was what gave away her lies in the first place.

“What aren’t you telling me?” He asked, leaning forward to take her hand, stopping her escape.

He didn’t think something was wrong, not exactly, but he couldn’t stop the persistent, niggling feeling that something was off.

His mind started to race as it brewed up a million different scenarios for why she was suddenly acting strange. She was worried she was pregnant, she was sick with something she hadn’t told him about yet, she was being blackmailed to do something terrible, she was part of some secret organization that would put her in serious danger…

His mind churned for what felt like an eternity, constructing scenarios that went from potentially plausible to downright ludicrous. He had to forcibly reel his thoughts back in, reminding himself that most of those were all fantastical situations that were more at home in a fictional story than in real life.

But still he couldn’t banish the feeling that something was going on, and that she was keeping secrets from him.

Gavin opened his mouth, the beginning of his interrogation on the tip of his tongue. But Rowan leaned down, the ends of her hair tickling his face as she kissed the top of his head.

“Rowan-”

He didn’t get much further than that, his thoughts melting away like fog beneath piercing, golden sunbeams of a summer afternoon. Rowan pressed light, chaste kisses to his brow and cheeks and the tips of his ears and just behind them. Her hands lay delicately on his shoulders, little more than the pads of her fingers pressing against the fabric of his shirt.

He was certain she was teasing him, with her featherlight kisses and her whisper of a touch. He wanted to thread his fingers through her hair and wrap an arm around her waist and hold her close to him. He wanted to pull her into his lap, he wanted her to wrap her arms around his neck.

But instead all she gave him was the ghost of an embrace, a phantom of a touch. He felt haunted, lost in a shadowed maze, chasing after the spectre of light that had bloomed in her wake.

He leaned forward, wanting to kiss her back, wanting to be close to her for a moment longer, but Rowan was stepping back, beaming at him with mischief in her eyes.

“I’ll be right back, babey,” she said, her voice lilting like the opening of a love song. “Don’t miss me too much.”

And then she was gone, and his heart was aching because he did miss her already. The cafeteria felt very large and for one of the very few times in his life he felt incredibly small, poking at his food as he waited for her to return.

He could feel something scratching in the back of his head, a little like when Stella, their dog, pawed at the back of his head first thing in the morning when she wanted to go out.

But this was different, if only because Stella wasn’t actually pawing at the back of his head. It was more like there was a tiny Stella in his brain, scratching at the back of it, trying to get him to remember something he could not figure out.

He continued to poke at his food, chewing slowly as he swept his gaze across the room, searching through the growing swarm of people for his most beloved person, wondering what she would want to do once they were done eating. Maybe they could check out the science fiction exhibit next. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t particularly excited about that one. Rowan had shown him some photos that had been posted on the museum’s website, and there were interactive displays and video footage and so many cool things he wanted to check out.

He wanted to look down at a diorama of Arrakis and read all the placards explaining important scenes and moments from the books. He wanted to step through a life-sized Stargate and step into the interactive hologram exhibit beyond it. He wanted to sit in the cockpit of the accurate-to-film Millennium Falcon and listen to the audio guide explain the real science that went into its design.

But mostly he wanted to hold Rowan’s hand and imagine living in a fantastical world with her. Any universe with her in it was magical, but he sometimes liked daydreaming about flying through space with her, or travelling through time holding her hand.

He knew it was childish, but it made his heart feel warm. There was a certainty to his fantasies; the knowledge that she would want to be a part of them, that if they were in any universe she would want to be with him. And that she would not mock him for his musings, that she would hold his hand and brush his hair back from his brow and listen with her eyes wide and bright. That she wouldn’t say they were childish or silly, that she would cherish them as much as she cherished him.

Gavin was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t notice Rowan returning. She settled her hands on his shoulders, reeling him back from the hazy world of his mind and into the sharp intensity of the real world. She pressed the pads of her thumbs against the base of his neck, massaging gently as she leaned down, resting her forehead against the side of his head.

“I missed you,” she breathed, her lips hovering just behind his ear. She sighed softly, her breath tickling his skin, and he could feel the gooseflesh rising on his arms.

He wanted to draw her into his lap and press his lips to hers and kiss her breathless. It was his birthday after all, he should have a free pass to do whatever he wanted.

But he would have to wait until they returned to their cabin for the evening before he could do all the things he wanted so desperately.

For now he would settle for tilting his head back so he could catch her lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you so much.”

Rowan beamed as she pulled away, her hair falling over her cheeks in soft curls. Her face was flushed, the soft pink of a newly blooming peony.

He should buy her some flowers. He should buy her a bouquet of sweet peonies and tulips and daisies. All in the different shades of pink that stained her face when he pressed his lips to hers.

Rowan peeled away from his embrace, sliding back into her seat only to glare down at her food. “I see it didn’t change shapes while I was in the bathroom.”

Gavin snorted, spearing a forkful of food and raising it to her mouth. “At least eat it for me. It is my birthday after all.”

Rowan rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, a small smirking dancing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday.”

***

Once they were done eating, Rowan let Gavin take her hand and guide them through the museum to the Science Fiction exhibit.

It was one of the last exhibits aside from the holographic planetarium rooms, and their reservation time wasn’t for a while yet. So they headed to the Science Fiction section next, passing through a doorway that made it seem like they were about to enter the bridge of the starship enterprise.

There was a light in Gavin’s eyes as they stepped into the first section, like twin stars had exploded into existence. Like there were galaxies within his eyes, millions upon millions of stars and suns glittering as he looked around the room.

Rowan wrapped her arms around his, pressing herself against his side, her heart aching. She wanted to be close, wanted to be as close to him as she possibly could, warmth radiating from him. He looked so open, so happy, a childlike joy so pure and sweet in his expression that she wanted to squish his cheeks and kiss him until he laughed.

He was happy, she was so very glad that he was happy.

Her eyes burned and she looked away, forcing herself to focus on what a robot was saying as it explained the different ways robots and androids appeared in sci-fi media. But her brain couldn’t focus, could only think about Gavin. Gavin’s eyes, Gavin’s smile, Gavin’s heart beating and spreading all his joy throughout his being.

“Pumpkin, what’s wrong?”

She blinked furiously trying to compose herself as she tipped her head up to meet his gaze. A line had formed between his brows, concern swimming within the golden depths of his eyes.

“I’m alright,” she murmured, rubbing his arm in what she hoped was a pacifying gesture.

He hummed, his lips pressing into a thin line, clearly not buying it, but after a moment his expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Why don’t we go take a look at some of the Star Wars stuff.”

She beamed up at him. “Lead the way.”

Gavin kissed her head once more, sending warmth and gossamer-winged butterflies streaming through her from the place his lips brushed against her skin.

The sci-fi exhibit ended up being easily the largest exhibit in the museum, with massive installations and interactive holograms and in some sections robot guides.

She was utterly in awe as they wandered through replicas of different ships featured in the Star Wars films, listening to audio overhead explain the different mechanics that would have made the ships function, and how fiction melded with science to inspire these creations. It was so realistic, like they were truly in the middle of an intergalactic space chase, like they were on their way to a fierce space battle and all they had was a rusty laser canon attached to the ship.

“I feel like im in the middle of a movie,” she murmured, squeezing Gavin’s hand as they walked around a group of ewoks brandishing spears. “Like if I look up I’ll see starfighters flying overhead.”

Gavin chuckled, lifting her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I would keep you safe. You wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt.”

She quirked her brow as they made their way towards one of the next parts of the exhibit. “Oh? Do you think you’d be a jedi?”

Gavin hummed, even as they stepped down a small ramp that led into a faux-desert that had been constructed within the building. “I think even if I was, I would leave the order.”

She frowned, ducking her head as they headed into a ‘cave,’ eerie music playing softly from speakers she couldn’t see. “Why?”

He cupped her face with one hand, stroking her cheek. “Because I would want to marry you. I could never give you up.”

Her face burned, and she tried to look away, but Gavin held her fast, his voice lilting with restrained laughter. “I’d leave the jedi in a heartbeat for you.”

She blinked, her words drying up on her tongue.

His words themselves weren’t particularly romantic, but it was the way Gavin said it, the way his voice dipped as his eyes fell to her lips, as his mouth curved up like a crescent moon, the only source of light in a starless night. It was the way he leaned closer, his breath tangling with hers. How she could feel his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke.

She swallowed, her mouth dry as a desert, her gaze falling to his mouth, to the smirk playing on his lips. He was far too confident, and far too pleased with himself. He’d been teasing her all day and he hadn’t let up for a second.

She tried to scowl, although there was no true intensity behind it, and Gavin just ended up snorting with laughter, his smirk becoming a bright smile.

“You know I remember when you used to be too shy to hold my hand,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the ceiling.

Gavin tsked, leaning down to flick her nose, startling the scowl from her face. “But you like when I hold your hand.”

“I-”

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up towards him. He was grinning, a stupid little self satisfied smirk that made her heart stumble and her face burn, like a match had been struck beneath her skin. She couldn’t find her words, they were lost and stumbling in an endless wood and she couldn’t seem to catch them. And all his grin did was grow wider as she stared at him wordlessly.

He leaned closer, mischief sparking in his eyes. “And you like when I tell you I love you.”

She didn’t know if she could move even if she wanted to, and she was so mesmerized by the dark lashes framing his golden eyes and the warmth of his skin so close to her and the way he began to stroke her jaw with his thumb.

She didn’t want to move, she just wanted to melt into his arms and be held very close and listen to the sound of his heart beating.

She forgot, too, that she should have been moderately annoyed at him for teasing her yet again. But all thoughts had vanished from her mind the moment he’d stepped a little closer, her world contracting until it was only him, all him. Perhaps she didn’t mind, so long as he would continue to look at her like she was the moon and stars. Like she was his everything.

He brushed the most painfully chaste kiss against the corner of her lips, his lashes fluttering against her skin as he closed his eyes. Rowan could feel the beat of her pulse beneath her skin, could hear the rush of blood in her ears. Perhaps she was already melting, perhaps she would need to be carried from the museum in Gavin’s arms.

But of course he pulled away all too soon, his grin nothing short of smug as she blinked up at him, as she shivered in the absence of his warmth.

It occurred to her then, as her senses slowly returned, that they were absolutely being one of those annoying couples people complained about in public. The couple that stood in line for roller coasters cuddling even when it was over 30 degrees, with their hands locked together so tightly you were convinced they were fused together. The couple that was almost certainly found in the corner of the library making out when it was supposed to be a prime study spot.

But it was also Gavin’s birthday, and he wasn’t one to care much about other people’s opinions anyways. And she wasn’t about to stop him when he was pressing kisses to her face.

Gavin took her hand again, drawing her deeper into the ‘cave,’ lights flashing as holographic info boards bloomed into view, explaining the science that went into the writing and creation of the planet Arrakis. The caves, the spice, how the journey would affect the protagonist.

Rowan would be lying if she said most of it didn’t go in one ear and out the other, like water spilling through open hands. She’d watched many a sci-fi film with Gavin, loving the brightness of his eyes and how excited he always got when he watched a trailer for a new movie, even if he did his best to act calm. And she loved watching them with him, loved sitting curled up beside him or sharing a bag of popcorn with him in a darkened theatre.

But she would be lying if she said she understood a word of what the exhibit was saying, or if she even understood half of what happened in Dune. She just knew Gavin enjoyed it, so she did too.

The desert planet exhibit slowly morphed as they continued walking, the walls of the false cave they walked in turning blue and translucent, the decorative stalactites hanging from the ceiling becoming white, seeming to drip icy water onto their heads as they passed. Fog began billowing around their ankles, and Rowan shivered, pressing closer to Gavin.

“They really went all out trying to make this realistic,” she murmured, her gaze tracing over the ‘icy’ stalactites. Gooseflesh raced across her body and she wiggled closer, trying to leach Gavin’s warmth.

He chuckled, slinging his arm around her shoulder and drawing her against his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they walked. It felt like they were experiencing an information overload, little passages branching off from the main ‘cave’ that changed depending on what show or movie they were inspired by.

They walked through the passage inspired by Hoth from Star Wars first, and Rowan nearly leapt out of her skin when they turned a corner and found themselves face-to-face with the monster that had attacked Luke in the first movie.

It must have been an animatronic because it shuffled towards them, lifting it’s big hairy arms and screeching as it came near them.

Gavin knew it was fake and wouldn’t hurt them, and yet he couldn’t help tightening his arms around Rowan as she stared up at the animatronic beast with wide eyes. It was frighteningly realistic.

Or rather, as realistic as something could be that was based on a movie from the eighties.

He rubbed Rowan’s arm as he gently propelled them both around the screaming animatronic and into the next part of the exhibit.

“Scared?” He asked, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. He was definitely starting to push his luck with Rowan, but he couldn’t help teasing her just a little more. He loved the shade of pink that stained her cheeks, loved the way she screwed her face up into a little pout.

And it was his birthday, so he was sure it was allowed.

Rowan turned her face away from him, huffing quietly, and he craned his neck to see the way her bottom lip stuck up and her nose crinkled as she did indeed pout.

He was going to kiss her so much when they got back to their cabin. He was going to kiss every little part of her, he was going to sink his teeth into that bottom lip and hold her hips against him so she knew just how much he enjoyed it.

“It’s just an animatronic,” she grumbled, her nostrils flaring. But barely a second passed before she let out a shrill screech, as another beast emerged from a shadowed alcove that they hadn’t seen.

Gavin couldn’t hold in his laughter as she leapt in his arms. Her entire body was shivering, her fingers practically claws against his forearm.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter, silently thanking whoever had designed this exhibit.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he breathed, and this time she did not have a retort, letting him guide them through the cavern and back out into the light.

They wandered through the rest of the exhibit, stepping through a replica Stargate, a hologram whirring, speakers singing as they stepped into the space beyond it. They took turns sitting in the cockpits of different fictional ships, Rowan striking such goofy poses Gavin had no choice but to fill his camera roll with photos of her brilliant, beaming face.

The fictional weapons and droids section was the last part of the sci-fi exhibit, the entrance to the final room surrounded by flashing lights and the buzz of clashing lightsabers.

Visuals of famous fictional sharpshooters like Han Solo covered the first wall they came across, their preferred blasters suspended in the air before them, flashing lights simulating blaster fire drawing the eye.

Rowan blinked as she stared up at one of the murals, the pallid blue lights shooting bursts of starlight flashing across her vision. Even as Gavin guided her away, one hand on her lower back, still she could see the flurry of stars in her periphery, practically blinding her as she stumbled through the exhibit.

There were lightsabers and futuristic swords next, with little info cards that glowed the same colour as the sabers they hovered beside. Rowan leaned forward, humming as she read one of the placards on a saber with a black blade that looked more like a sword than anything else she’d seen in the movies.

“Babey,” she said, pulling on his hand and pointing to the display in front of her. “What’s this one? Is this from Star Wars?”

He propped his chin on her shoulder, his hair tickling her ear. “It is. I think it’s just in the cartoons, though.” He pressed his cheek against hers, the low rumble of his hum vibrating through her, warming her heart, making her legs feel a little like jelly. “Although I think I’ve seen it in one of the live action shows.”

“Do you think we could watch some of those shows when we get home?” She asked, leaning her head against his in kind. She could feel the way his brows lifted high, his mouth quirking to the side.

“You want to watch them with me?”

“Of course I do,” she murmured, slipping her arm around his waist. “I want to share the things that you love.”

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was blushing, she could feel the warmth creeping into his cheeks, could feel the quickening of the beat of his heart. She even felt the whisper of his lashes against her face as he struggled to calm himself, quietly reeling from her words.

Maybe he hadn’t changed that much, maybe he was still the same man who had once bashfully rubbed at the back of his neck and muttered a quiet retort when she��d told him she liked the cologne he was wearing. Maybe he was still the sweet, shy man whose face had turned the red of a sky blanketing a wildfire when she’d kissed his cheek.

“I love sharing with you,” he finally responded, tilting his head to the side to brush his lips against the corner of her mouth.

Now it was Rowan’s turn to burn up, and she squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see the smug look that was most definitely glowing in his eyes.

She just wanted to make him happy, wanted to see the bright, innocent joy that bloomed in his face like midnight stars. It was light and warmth, and it was precious, beloved.

He was precious, beloved.

And there was nothing she loved more than watching the light swell in his eyes, watching as his expression grew brighter, as some invisible slipped from his shoulders little by little each day.

They wandered through the rest of the exhibit, murmuring to each other as they pointed out different weapons and robots. Rowan mused about whether either of them could wield the swords and lasers and guns that were propped up in the room around them and that dangled ominously from the ceiling on wires she could not see. She stepped up next to one of the interactive displays to wrap her hands around the handle of a particularly massive space gun, pulling the trigger so the barrel lit up in emerald and ultramarine.

“I wish they had weapons from some magical girl shows,” she lamented, stepping away as a swarm of children raced around her feet, shouting about how they wanted to try out the gun.

“There’s lots in space, you know,” she continued, taking Gavin’s hand as they continued on. “There’s Sailor Moon, and there’s She-Ra, and there’s-”

“You mean like that?” He asked, pointing to an array of sparkling, life-sized versions of the different scepters and wands and pens and swords and literal actual guns that had appeared in some of the magical cartoons she loved.

Rowan squealed, dragging a laughing Gavin behind her so she could peruse the different wands, picking up an interactive one that sang and sparkled as it moved.

“Look at it!” She sang, getting to enjoy some childlike joy of her own as she waved it around. “It’s just like in the shows! I wonder if it can…” She trailed off, fiddling with the handle, only for light to pulse from the wand and the little alcove the wand was displayed in began to glow and sparkle, pink and red and purple and yellow and blue all bleeding together into a cacophony of light.

She didn’t notice Gavin taking her photo, or the delighted smile that was dancing on his lips. She was too focused on the wand, on the staff next to it that exploded into light when lifted it, and then on the spinning tiaras next, and the demo one she could pick up and fling around and around.

He could feel fatigue beginning to creep into the edges of his mind, an added weight like some of his bones had been encased in lead. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak up, to let her know he was becoming tired.

His heart felt so warm, his chest like there were stars being born there, galaxies and galaxies of them, bright and warm and life-sustaining. The day had been about him, he knew, about indulging in some of the childishness he was finally allowed to experience. But seeing his Rowan wander around the exhibit with the colourful, sparkly magical weapons made him all the happier. Now he got to see her bright smiles, got to see the shining wonder in her eyes that he had been carrying in his heart for most of the day.

He didn’t care that she dragged him from the exhibit and into a tiny one they hadn’t noticed at first, the walls painted in different shades of pink with sparkles and sunshine yellow whorls decorating the walls.

Rowan yanked him around the room, the magical girl exhibit quiet, the other guests no doubt preoccupied with the spaceships and stargates and screaming blasters and droids. There were more magical weapons, and sculptures and replicas of spaceships and outfits from the different shows. A shimmering info board was suspended from the ceiling, lights flashing around them like trails of glitter guiding them through the information about the shows, the costumes, the characters.

He captured a few more photos of Rowan as she ran around, squealing and waving her hands in front of every case, leaning her whole body into every diorama like she was trying to become a part of the action. Gavin would keep these photos forever, cherishing that smile, that pure, unfettered joy.

She was spun sugar and sweet teas and pink frosting. She was candied flowers and strawberry ice cream and syrupy honey. His teeth ached from her smile, her laugh. She was a confectionary of warmth and sweetness and everything he loved.

Gavin resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. He didn’t want to break the enchantment that glittered in her wake as she pointed at all the different things, as she mimicked the poses of some figurines, as she explained to him her favourite storylines, as she critiqued some of the information, citing that some of it read as if the people writing it didn’t care about the story at all.

“It’s so clinical,” she grumbled, frowning down at a little diorama of the Sailor Moon-verse, the different planets surrounded by halos of light as information about each planet and the sailor that protected them scrolled across the top of the glass over the diorama.

She pointed to Venus, wrapped in an aura of orange and yellow light. “It doesn’t even mention the interesting history of Sailor Venus! There was like a whole chapter at the end of the Sailor V comic about her and her reincarnated lover!”

Rowan pouted, the glow of the display gilding her face. She could have been art from a museum, her eyes bright as stars, her smile golden from the light, the line of her jaw traced in gold, then scarlet, then azure, then the snowy white of a first snow. Her hands perfectly posed above the glass, fingertips hovering over the words scrolling across the top as it explained the history of the moon kingdom, now. Her hair fell into her face, curling against her cheeks, alight like a flame had been set beneath the waves, casting it in bronze and auburn and the brown of soil that had been freshly tilled.

She would be named something like joy. Or delight. Or perhaps creation, her body leaning over the diorama of planets and moons like a goddess peering over the cosmos she had brought to life.

He took another picture, before she noticed. She was mesmerized by the display, and he was mesmerized by her. By his Rowan, who was his joy, his delight. She made his heart warm, made him feel like he was brimming with universes and cosmos and so stars.

She looked up then, and he slid his phone back into his pocket, although the effort was pointless as she scanned the room, her brow furrowing as she considered something.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, stepping away from the lit up display. He could see her teeth worrying her bottom lip, took note of the hunch of her shoulders as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Today is supposed to be about you, and I’ve spent the last little bit running around this exhibit when there’s other things you’d rather do.”

When he ached to hold her this time, he did not resist. Instead he reached for her hand, taking it in his and pressing it to his heart.

“The only thing I want to do is spend time with you,” he said, holding her gaze. “And I want to see your smile.”

She hesitated, her eyes slipping to the floor, to the carpet embroidered with pink and purple symbols from all the different shows and comics featured within the magical girl exhibit.

He pressed his index and middle fingers beneath her chin, tipping it back up so he could find her eyes. “If I get nothing else for my birthday, I’d like to see your smile for a little longer, today. And share the things you love too.”

The blush that crept over her cheeks reminded him of the sky as the sun began to set, soft pink staining the cerulean first, following by a rosy red that turned to fire as the sun set the horizon ablaze.

“Will you tell me more about what was missing in that display?” He asked, jerking his chin at the lit up diorama of the planets. “I’m not familiar with Sailor V, I don’t think it was in the comics you showed me.”

Her previous embarrassment washed away as her eyes widened. And there, curving over her lips like a crescent moon, was her smile once again.

“Did I not show you the Sailor V comics?” She mused, her eyes flicking up, to the side, back to him as she thought. “I don’t know if I brought them with me. I was preoccupied with some other things…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Well once we get home,” he suggested. “Will you show me? Are there any episodes about it?”

She deflated a little, shaking her head. “No, but I wish there were. I don’t even think there’s any episodes about it in the reboot.”

She hummed, looking back at the display. Gavin’s hand fell from her chin, and he scratched at the back of his neck. “Will you explain it to me, though?”

Again that brilliant light in her eyes, replacing the sheepish look she’d had before. “Yes! But…” Again she trailed off, her gaze sweeping through the room, fixing on something to his left. He was pretty sure he heard the jingle of a bell and a

Gavin turned to look, his own gaze falling on a light up tunnel with flashing pink lights. He could see the inside of the tunnel was pink, and he was pretty sure there was an extensive dessert menu hanging on either side of the hall. There was music playing too, so faint he couldn’t quite make out the tune.

“Can we go down there? While we talk?” She asked, pointing to the lit up hall. “I think I know what show it’s going to be about, but I want to be sure.”

He squeezed the hand he still held as he gave his assent. Of course they could, of course he would walk with her. He would go anywhere with her, so long as she was happy. So long as he could be by her side.

***

Perhaps Rowan should have felt a little bad, for the time she’d spent dragging Gavin through the comparatively tiny magical girl section of the museum. She didn’t even remember reading it on the map, although she supposed the section labelled MG would have stood for magical girl, the corner of the museum dedicated to the exhibit so much smaller than the others even on the map that it couldn’t fit the full exhibit name on the map.

But she didn’t feel bad, not even a little. She had, at first, but Gavin had squashed that feeling like a spider beneath his shoe.

Which was, in fact, something he did have to do quite often because there was no way she was squishing a spider. No way she was feeling the crack and squish of its exoskeleton so close to her skin.

Gavin had been kind, had been so sweet, his words giving her courage, and she had brimmed with relief for a few moments before it had been eclipsed by her excitement. There had been so many colours and so many things she loved, altogether in one bright maze of an exhibit. It had been quiet, too, most of the other guests preoccupied with the massive spaceships and dense texts that populated the rest of the museum.

But she had been so excited, and Gavin had held her hand, asking questions as they wandered through, making her heart sing every time he chimed in, every time he asked a question or made a remark or asked to watch the shows with her. It had been bubbling, brilliant joy, like sparkling pink rosé in her veins.

By the time they finished in the magical girl section it was almost time for their turn in one of the little planetarium rooms. So Gavin had squeezed her hand, drawing them back through the museum and the bustling crowd towards the domed planetarium that sat in the very centre of the museum.

They stood in line for a while, and Rowan leaned against Gavin, feeling fatigue beginning to set in. Her legs felt heavy, her feet aching from walking for so long. She winced as she tried readjusting her stance, the backs of her shoes pinching her heels.

She’d have blisters by the end of the day, and they hadn’t brought any blister bandages with them. She’d have to buy some later or suffer through more pain when they went out again.

Or, of course, Gavin could carry her. Which she wouldn’t be opposed to in the least. And she doubted he’d need much of a reason either. Then she could rest her head in the crook of his neck and listen to the beat of his heart.

There were, of course, issues with that plan, but she chose to ignore them for now. At the very least he could carry her around their yurt and the little bit of private space around it.

“Is this the last stop for us?” He asked, unfolding their map, his eyes scanning over the different exhibits highlighted on the side.

“I think so,” she said, the sound of a child’s laugh ringing through the echo-y hallway they were waiting in.

She smiled a little, her mind wandering as she imagined a tiny hand in her own. Or perhaps a tiny person perched on Gavin’s shoulders, cooing at the spaceships and the figures and the lights.

“What are you thinking of?” He asked, his voice reeling her from her daydream.

Her cheeks heated and she looked away, focusing on the queue, on how much longer they’d need to wait. She could see someone coming down the line, checking reservation times.

Rowan felt a pinch at her hip and spun around, gaping at Gavin.

“Tell me what you were thinking,” he insisted, a sly smile on his lips. “I want to know.”

“You’re awfully nosey today.”

He chuckled, his hand hovering over her waist, like he might pinch her again.

“I was just thinking about how much longer we have to wait,” she sniffed, crossing her arms. “We’ve both been really looking forward to this part.”

He arched a brow, his eyes glittering with mischief, as if he didn’t believe her. But he didn’t pry. He just pinched her again, smirking.

“When you’re ready to tell me, let me know.”

She narrowed her eyes, wondering why he was being so weirdly cryptic. What did he think she was thinking about? Why did he think it was something she wasn’t ready to tell him yet?

But she didn’t have time to mull over his response any longer as a staff member walked up to them, a small tablet in her hand.

“Party name?” She asked, typing in their information.

Her face brightened as their information popped up on her screen, and she beamed. “Mr and Mrs Bai?”

Gavin squeezed Rowan’s hand, looking smug. They hadn’t been married for so long that the sound of their shared name had lost its enchantment. It seemed like quite the opposite had happened, Gavin seeming more and more delighted every time he heard it.

“We’ve got planetarium room J reserved for you two,” she said, gesturing for them to follow. “It’s just around the corner here.”

She took the around a curve in the hall, pausing before a silver door that reminded Rowan of something she’d see on a spaceship.

“Here are your pamphlets,” the lady said, handing them each a rather hefty pamphlet. “It includes information on how to work the planetarium projections and holograms, and it has some basic information on the planets and galaxies we know of.”

The silver door opened with a soft whoosh, ice-touched fog rolling out to wrap around their ankles.

“Don’t worry about that,” the woman explained. “That’s just for theatrics. A bit of dry ice and fog adds a bit of drama!” She waved at them to enter. “You two have fun!”

They stepped into the room, a slight chill wrapping around them as the door whooshed shut and they were left to stand in the fog.

Pallid blue light shone down from the ceiling, bathing the small room in an eerie glow. It was circular, around the size of their living room, with what looked like steel counters curving around the circumference of the room.

Rowan wandered towards the counters, finding dials and buttons and gauges flashing ivory. She hummed, flipping through the pamphlet the woman had given her, trying to figure out how it all worked.

Gavin came up behind her, hooking his arm around her waist and peeking over her shoulder. “This looks like some of the stuff at the STF.”

“Do you think you can get it working then?” She asked, squinting as she tried to make out the instructions in the weak light. “This makes no sense to me, I-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as Gavin leaned over her, his fingers dancing over the controls. He flicked a switched and pressed a few different buttons and sketched something she couldn’t understand over a little control pad, and suddenly the light was brightening, turning to a soft golden glow. She could hear humming around her, the whir of fans and engines and tech coming to life.

And then as if standing in the centre of the universe as the big bang came to be, galaxies exploded around her.

Rowan gasped, clapping her hands together as she took in the holographic universe swirling around her. Planets hovered in midair like dangling ornaments, stars blinked into existence and meteors twirled like snowflakes in a storm.

“What do you want to look at first?” He asked, drawing her towards the centre of the room, to where galaxies spun and danced like tissue paper on the wind.

She reached out her hand, the pad of her index finger brushing over the space where the milky galaxy hovered. There was a flash, and then it was expanding, their home galaxy blooming into existence around them. She watched as earth and mars and venus and saturn spun around their sun, whirling in time to different dances that the others could not follow.

“Look,” she sang, careful not to touch anything as she stepped through the glow of the hologram and stood before one of the planets. “It’s jupiter!”

Gavin chuckled. “And all its moons.”

Rowan gaped at the moons, her finger hovering over the closest one.

The hologram of jupiter grew larger, the moons orbiting around Rowan and Gavin now as well as the projected planet.

“Cyllene, or, Jupiter XLVIII-”

Rowan jumped at the sound of the cool robotic voice that filled the room, echoing against the metal walls.

“Is it telling us facts about it?” She asked, furrowing her brow as the voice grew quiet, the moon she’d touched spinning before her eyes.

The sound of paper crinkling drew her attention, and she looked over to see Gavin flipping through the pages of the pamphlet, a line between his brows. “It looks like we can activate the voiceover vocally, or if we select certain planets it will trigger automatically.”

“I’m gonna try another one,” Rowan reached out, sliding her finger over the moon beside her, and the hologram shifted as the new moon replaced the one the robot had called Cyllene.

The room chimed, followed by the cool robotic voice from before.

“Chaldene, or, Jupiter XXI, named after Chaldene the mother of-”

Rowan gaped, tipping her head back as if she could find the face of the voice that echoed through the chamber.

Gavin watched her spin in a circle, her arms lifted over her head, as if she were trying to feel the shooting stars that tumbled past.

“It feels kind of cool,” she said, dropping her arms as she again focused on the planet and moons before her. “Like I’m walking through a light rain, maybe?”

Gavin shifted, holding his arms out next. There was the chill of the fog creeping around their feet, but more than that there was a subtle coolness that wrapped around him, gooseflesh pricking his bared skin. If one of the shooting stars or moons or planets brushed against him he shivered, like a drop of frozen rain had slid down his back.

“I think you’re right,” he said at last, dropping his arms too. “Although if you’re cold, I can do my best to warm you up.”

Even in the wan light of the hologram he could see the colour creeping into her cheeks, disappearing beneath the curtain of her hair that veiled her face as she tipped her head forward.

He could have teased her more if he wanted to, but found himself too enchanted by her as she continued to select the different moons, listening to the computer list off different facts about them. She pinched her fingers and spread them wide when she wanted to zoom in further on the surface of some of the moons, although she wasn’t always successful, the holographic recreations fuzzy and lacking any specific details of the satellites’ surfaces.

He felt like maybe he had been put under a spell, a charm crafted of starlight and moon dust and freezing ocean water only found beneath Europa’s silicate-and-ice. Because how else could he explain how he could not focus on the hologram in the room at all, could not focus on the stars that bloomed to life and exploded into darkness around him when all he could focus on was Rowan.

She was still preoccupied with the moons, asking the room more information about them, about the potential for the ocean hidden beneath the frozen crust of Europa. The room responded in kind, sending the galaxy whirling around them as it brought another moon to the forefront. Ganymede, this time.

Gavin knew all of this information, of course. Once he’d become interested in space and in their universe he’d gotten lost down a rabbit hole of articles and books about the different planets and galaxies, and he kept up to date on every new discovery.

So he knew that there were moons that could be hiding life beneath their frozen surfaces, that there were interstellar oceans that they didn’t fully comprehend.

But watching Rowan, her eyes wide and filled with the light of the stars sailing past, he felt that wonder anew, magic and awe sparking in his heart like embers to kindling. She was gaping, the galaxy reflecting in her eyes, and he felt like he was seeing the universe for the first time. Like he was taking in the stars and the planets and the moons with new eyes.

Perhaps he was; experiencing it all now with his wife beside him. She seemed to be the axis his new universe spun around, a brilliant star that gave him warmth and life. He’d joked about being Jupiter and her his most precious moon, but truly she was the warm, beautiful planet, and he was nothing more than a satellite caught in her orbit.

She took his hand, startling him from his thoughts. “It’s your birthday, what do you want to look at next?”

How did he tell her that he would be satisfied looking at her? That she was the most precious thing in the universe, that no mysterious ocean or hurtling asteroid or cannibal galaxy could be as awe-inspiring as her? As precious as her?

He would tell her, he decided. He would just tell her later, once they’d gone back to their circular cabin and he’d pressed her against the bed and kissed her until her face was burning bright as a red star.

But for now he just squeezed her hand, their fingers tangling together as he suggested experimenting with the different modes the hologram had. Why not watch the galaxy bloom to life, shifting and melding and expanding over time?

She nodded her assent, trailing behind him as he flicked a few buttons to activate the time-lapse mode. Again the sound of whirring machines filled the room, and the temperature seemed to drop, the fog spilling from vents around their shoulders now. Within moments they were standing in a sea of drifting fog, their legs swallowed up by the pallid mist.

“It makes it feel kind of spooky,” Rowan admitted, pressing closer to Gavin.

She knew the fog was meant to elevate the atmosphere in the room, to enhance the experience itself of being in a private planetarium room, but it just made her skin crawl. It reminded her of the haunted house she’d tried to go through a few years ago. She’d had the chills while waiting in line, and they had only gotten worse as she’d stepped past the curtain and into the shadowed maze of the haunted house.

She’d been shaking so hard by the time she’d gotten to the first jump scare that she’d cried when the actor had leapt from their hiding place.

Gavin had been with her then, and he’d drawn her close, searching for the nearest exit. Afterwards he’d bought her pumpkin doughnuts and a hot chocolate from a food truck near the haunted house before taking her home and holding her tight on their shared couch.

Gavin’s voice was warm, drawing the fear from her heart like poison from a wound just like he had back then. He still held her hand now, his thumb tracing over her knuckles.

“Look,” he murmured, pointing with his free hand at a collection of stars. “The birth of stars.”

She followed his gaze, but she felt herself drawn back to him, the exploding stars gilding his face with their light. There was a comfort in being next to him, a warmth that washed over her and banished the chill that had descended.

He looked like a star himself, bathed as he was in the light of the growing universe. Planets twirled on invisible axes, asteroids hurtled past, stars bloomed to life and exploded into darkness in the blink of an eye. Galaxies collided, planets were vaporized, and the vastness of the universe around them expanded, entire worlds growing smaller as everything else stretched past any hope of comprehension.

But Gavin was the one constant in the chaos of the universe. Only he remained the same, warm and steady and kind, his hand like a tether that kept her from twirling away in the wake of the ever-changing tide that swept through space and time.

His eyes were bright, his smile kissed by starlight. He must have turned the volume down on the room’s voice, because it was little more than a hushed whisper, like the rustling of leaves in an autumn wind. Gavin spoke over it, explaining to Rowan the different planets, the different stars they watched wink in and out of existence. He pointed to a black hole, started telling her about the theories surrounding them as it swallowed galaxies whole.

She shuddered, pressing closer still. It was a little terrifying to think that such things were out there, ready to consume everything she held dear and tear it to shreds.

Gavin continued, too caught up now in the holograms around them to notice her discomfort. He grew more and more animated as he spoke, the amber of his eyes shining like molten gold, like flickering fire.

He looked so happy, utterly enchanted by the stars. And Rowan felt like she was enchanted in kind, although the spell cast upon her was because of the man before her, rather than the terrifying unknown of the universe.

There was joy in the way he moved his free hand, the way his words lilted as he spoke, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as something flashed before their eyes. It was pure, undiluted, almost child-like, and her heart ached as she listened to him, as she watched splotches of pink appear on his cheeks.

He was happy, excited, to be here, to be sharing this with her.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. Today was Gavin’s birthday, and she would not let him see her cry. But she would cry later, burning tears of joy streaking her cheeks when they turned in for the night and she buried her face against his chest. When the happiness and love staining her own heart were finally too much to bear, and it was safe to let them spill, knowing she would not confuse Gavin or upset him to see her cry.

She loved him so much, he was so precious to her. Her husband, this most wonderful man beside her, her most precious star.

***

Rowan squinted when they stepped from the planetarium room, the lights of the corridor so much brighter than the pallor of the dark room and the holograms.

The chill from the fog still lingered, buried in her bones as it was. She tugged at Gavin’s arm, pouting as he chuckled before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to his chest as they made their way to the exit.

They had one more stop before they were done at the museum, before Rowan could put the rest of her plan into motion.

She couldn’t help grinning, although she tried to play it off as excitement as they walked beneath the sign for the gift shop. Before them was a sprawling room with shelves stuffed nearly to bursting with toys and books and figurines. It felt a little like stepping into another of the exhibits, so many things to look at Rowan didn’t know where to start.

Her heart thundered in her chest, but she forced herself to take a very deep breath, redirecting her focus to the shelves on the far end of the shop, stacked high with colourful boxes.

“I think those are lego sets,” she said, dragging Gavin through the shop, their footsteps muffled on the moon-and-planet carpet. She wondered, vaguely, if the carpet had been stolen from a bowling alley. It certainly looked like it belonged in one.

There was still pink on Gavin’s cheeks, and they stood before the exclusive lego sets, trying to decide on which spaceships they wanted to build. Rowan furrowed her brow, trying to remember which ones he already owned, which ones she’d helped him build already.

She was pretty sure he had just about every Star Wars set, although there was a brand new one that had released not too long ago.

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to remember. She liked to keep up on lego releases so she could be prepared with gifts for Gavin when he returned home from long missions, or for holidays and birthdays, or honestly when she just felt like treating him. It was probably the easiest gift to give him, his face always lighting up like a kid at christmas when he unwrapped a new set.

Once they had settled on a few sets Rowan wandered over to the plushie display, smiling at the embroidered grins and rosy cheeks of the plush planets and suns and moons. She couldn’t help it, she had to get at least one. Or maybe two.

One for her and one for Gavin.

She felt his breath against her ear as he settled his chin on her shoulder. “I think the planet ones are the best.”

She arched a brow, pointing to the plush Jupiter. “I suppose we have to get that one for the birthday boy.”

He chuckled as she gathered the plush into her arms. “Of course.”

“But he needs a friend,” she murmured, her hand grazing over the different plushies.

Gavin reached forward, tapping his finger on a smiling moon. “Why not this one?”

She snorted, but collected one of the plush moons, nestling it in the crook of her arm next to the Jupiter.

“Now they’ll be best friends,” she announced, beaming at him as he straightened.

Gavin cupped her cheek with his free hand. “Maybe more than friends?”

“Maybe.”

They wandered through the rest of the shop, collecting a few other odds and ends before heading to the cash. Rowan had been preparing for this day for months, had planned out exactly what she would do when they got up to the register with their hoard.

So she was ready with her card in hand, slapping it against the screen of the card reader before the cashier had even finished reading their total.

Gavin’s eyes widened, his wallet in his hand. “You didn’t have to-”

Rowan beamed at him as the card reader beeped, the transaction completed. “You can carry the bags.”

Gavin slid his wallet back into his pocket, blinking at her as he took the bags from the cashier. “Rowan, you know I-”

She took his free hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Happy birthday, babey.”

Gavin stumbled behind her for a moment, dazed. He usually liked being the one to pay for things when they went out, liked taking care of her, even if it was just buying little treats and knick knacks.

He felt a little like there were wings in his belly, delicate butterfly wings made of gossamer and sunshine. They were fluttering furiously, and he couldn’t help but feel a little like a boy again, like his crush had smiled at him and leant him her pencil.

He swallowed, his cheeks heating. He would have to thank her later, would have to show her exactly how thankful he was for her gift.

Rowan groaned as they made their way into the parking lot, running a hand through her hair. “It’s so hot, I forgot how warm it was supposed to be today.”

Gavin squeezed her hand, scanning the parking lot. “Let’s get to the car and we can get the air conditioning going for you.”

It took him a moment longer to spot their car than he had anticipated. He’d thought they’d parked quite close to the entrance, barely more than a few moments walk. But the car was quite a few rows back, and he could feel sweat coating his skin like a film by the time he unlocked the passenger side door for her.

Rowan slid inside, and Gavin moved to the door to the backseat to toss their bags inside. But he found himself pausing, his eyes narrowing.

The backseat was virtually empty, nothing but a simple pink blanket spread out over the seat. But hadn’t it been full that morning when they’d left?

He distinctly remembered something in the backseat he hadn’t been allowed to look at. Except now it was gone.

Gavin set the bags in the back before going around the side and settling into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition.

“Rowan,” he said, turning to her as the air conditioning blasted frosty air into the car.

“Hmmm?” She looked over at him, her face red from the sun.

“Don’t you remember us parking closer?”

She furrowed her brow, turning around to lean forward, peering up at the museum. “I don’t think so?”

“It feels like it took longer to get back to the car.”

She quirked her mouth to the side, leaning back. “Maybe it’s just from the heat? I feel like when it gets hot out everything feels like it takes longer.”

He hummed, supposing she had a point. But how did that explain the empty backseat?

Gavin opened his mouth, but closed it again as Rowan watched him curiously. She didn’t seem to have any idea what he was talking about, and it was entirely possible he was remembering wrong. He had been a little preoccupied with her and with his excitement at coming to this museum.

Shrugging, Gavin shifted the car into drive, slowly pulling out from their parking spot and heading towards the lot exit.

“Why don’t we do a little driving around,” Rowan offered, as the main road came into view.

He arched a brow. “Where to?”

“I don’t know, I just…” She trailed off, her eyes flicking down to her hands, her fingers hooking around the chain of her bracelet. “I don’t want today to end yet.”

He flicked the turn signal on, leaning his head back as he watched the cars racing past him. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“There’s a little town nearby. We could head over there and wander around a bit.”

He could admit that it was a bit odd that Rowan would want to wander around in the late July afternoon, the heat beating down on them as it was.

But he brushed his suspicions off, not caring if it was slightly strange that his wife wanted to walk around. It was his birthday, and she was partial to cute little towns with little shops and parks to wander through. And it was a perfectly good excuse to hold her hand for a little longer.

He merged onto the road at last, heading towards the town that the museum was located on the outskirts of. It was busier now than it had been that morning, the roads growing busier the closer they got to town. Rowan chattered aimlessly, her fingers brushing against his arm as she told him about something she had read, as she asked him did he think there would be any ice cream shops, it was the perfect day for ice cream.

He followed the signs that directed him towards an ‘olde towne,’ which he assumed was something like the downtown. That would surely be the place Rowan would like best, and there would be plenty of shopping and places to wander hand-in-hand.

“Oh babey, look! A little bookstore!”

Gavin took that as his cue to find a parking spot, quickly pulling into a little lot behind a collection of shops.

Rowan scrambled from the car before he had even pulled the key from the ignition, popping coins into the parking meter in front of them.

“What are you doing?” He asked, stretching his arms up as he stood.

“Just making sure we have loads of time,” she sang, popping another two dollar coin into the machine. “I don’t want us to get a ticket.”

He chuckled, tucking the key into his pocket and wrapping his arm around her waist. “How long do you think we’re going to be here, pumpkin?”

Her bottom lip popped out and she looked away. “I just want to make sure we’re not ticketed. Parking tickets on birthdays are the worst.”

He sighed, earning a sharp yelp as he pinched her waist. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Stop pinching me, I hope!”

He snorted. “But it’s my birthday, I thought I could have anything I wanted.”

She narrowed her eyes, stepping out of his arms. “You want to inflict bodily harm on me?”

He couldn’t help it then, reaching forward quick as lightning to pinch her waist again. Rowan squealed, smacking his arm.

“Stop that!” But she was laughing, even as she jogged away from him.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, closing the distance between them quickly. “I’ll make sure to kiss it better tonight.”

She puffed out her cheeks, her face turning scarlet. “Or you could just not pinch me.”

“But where would be the fun in that?”

Rowan poked his chest, pouting. “You owe me.”

“On my own birthday?” He challenged, smirking.

“Debts don’t care about birthdays!” She announced, turning her nose up. “And I’m here to collect.”

Gavin sighed, cupping the back of her neck to hold her steady as he leaned closer, savouring the way her knees wobbled and her breathing faltered.

“Can I pay it back later?” He murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips, a lazy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I have a couple of ideas.”

She squeaked, and he could feel the flutter of her lashes against his skin.

He hummed, his free hand idly stroking her side. “What do you say?”

Her voice cracked, sounding strangled, like there was something caught in it. “I-I-”

“What is it, pumpkin?” He couldn’t keep the laughter from his voice.

“I just meant like…” She trailed off, her voice catching as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

“Like buying me some candies, or a book, or some flowers,” she managed, her eyes looking anywhere but at his face.

He chuckled again, pulling away, although he was loath to move so far away from her. “Well there was never any question of that.”

She sighed, her head falling forward. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hopefully a lot, since it’s my birthday.”

His cheeky little comment cost him dearly, Rowan pinching his arm in kind before marching off. He winced, but quickly shook off the pain, chasing after Rowan to twine his hand with hers.

“I’m only teasing,” he said, letting her choose the route, deciding it was probably best not to push her too far. He had to save up a little mischief for later.

Rowan didn’t respond, her face scrunched up in a facsimile of a pout. She just tugged him forward, glaring at him in their reflection in a shop window.

“Why don’t we look for a sweet shop?” he suggested, trying to offer her an olive branch. “There’s usually at least one in a town like this.”

Rowan halted her steps, her shoulders relaxing. “Will you buy me the chocolates with the maraschino cherries if they have them?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“And if there’s any raspberry ones?”

Again he nodded.

“And if there’s any orange ones?”

He squeezed her hand, biting back another laugh. He would buy her the moon if he could. He would string the stars on a chain of gold for her neck, he would pluck the rings from Saturn for her fingers, he would twist the stardust trail behind a meteor through her hair.

Of course he would buy her a little bag of candies if she wanted. If that showed even a scrap of how much he adored her.

“As you wish.”

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath about how dorky he was being yet again, but Gavin couldn’t find it in himself to care. Perhaps he was a little silly and dorky, as she so often liked to tell him before kissing his cheeks or wrapping her arms around his waist.

But he was hers, and she loved every little part of him, even the silliest parts.

Gavin let her draw him into shop after shop, the sun warming his face, the heat seeping into the marrow of his bones. They were greeted with blasts of air conditioning and chiming bells as they pushed open different shop doors, the smell of chocolates or spiced drinks or old leather permeating the different spaces.

They wandered around the fancy chocolate shop that was in fact in the little town, only a few streets over from where they’d parked. Rowan wandered aimlessly, lifting up little packets of hot chocolate or prepackaged assortments of candies while Gavin leaned over the chocolate display case, scanning the options carefully before pointing to the different sweets he wanted.

He had them all packaged up by the time she had finished her rounds through the store, a box of hazelnut chocolates in the shape of little animals in her hands.

She looked a little sheepish as she held the box up to him, chewing on her bottom lip. “Can we get these too?”

She didn’t need to ask. Gavin was already taking them from her hands, tucking them under his arm as he made his way to the register.

“Should we stop and get something to eat?” He asked, his card already on the card reader so Rowan couldn’t pull her little trick on him again.

She seemed to mull over his question, her eyes scanning the shelves behind the cashier, catching on the pink striped wallpaper that reminded him of cherry flavoured candy canes.

“I don’t feel that hungry,” she said, sighing. “The food from the museum is sitting kind of heavy in my stomach.”

He rubbed her back idly, taking the pink paper bag of their things in his free hand.

He steered her towards the door, concern flitting through him like a moth at midnight. “A drink then?”

She nodded. “A drink would be nice.”

Gavin kept his hand on her back, steering them both through the throng of people ambling around on the sidewalks. “I think I saw a little tea place this way.”

“Ooo and the bookshop is just over there!”

He couldn’t help smiling, his attention diverted for a moment before he resumed his mission. “Maybe we should sit down first, if you’re not feeling well it could be from the heat.”

Rowan grumbled something under her breath, but Gavin decided not to respond. Verbally, at least. Because he definitely pinched her side again, something he was becoming a little too fond of doing, if only to elicit the gasping response Rowan always seemed to give him whenever he pinched her.

He would make sure he was very gentle when he made up for it later.

It took a bit of wrangling to get her to sit while he went to order them both something to drink. She insisted that she was fine, that she wasn’t an invalid, that she was perfectly able to stand on her own feet and wait in a queue.

But Gavin wouldn’t take no for an answer, and after a prolonged battle between their wills, Rowan had relented, letting him guide her into a seat at a small table next to a window.

He might have had to pull the birthday card again, but he would be lying if he said he was ashamed of it. If it meant convincing his wife to rest then he was more than happy to abuse it until the day was done.

The line wasn’t particularly long, and Gavin ordered iced teas for them, one a sweet strawberry tea and one lemon.

A pair of kids ran past his feet, squealing as they chased after their mother, who was carrying a bag of cookies and a tray with three iced drinks balanced on it. Gavin’s eyes trailed after them, their laughter ringing like bells. He wondered what it would be like if there had been someone smaller with him and Rowan, little hands grasping at his, a stream of questions about space and rocket ships as they’d wandered through the museum.

He would have had to buy extra chocolates at the last shop, and he smiled as he imagined how Rowan’s voice would have lilted as she’d chattered with the little voice. Then he would have tossed the child onto his shoulders, and they would have squealed as happily as the children following their mother squealed.

Perhaps there would only be one, or perhaps two, or-

His daydream fizzled apart as his name was called, the drinks he’d ordered set on the counter.

He did his best to ignore the strange feeling that had bloomed in his chest, not quite melancholy not quite want, tucking away the image of chubby cheeks and little grasping hands held safely in his. Instead, he grabbed the drinks, heading back to the table.

Rowan smiled at him as he approached, and she cooed about how she’d missed him, although he was sure it had only been a few moments at the most.

Not that it really mattered, not when he’d missed her so much too.

They chatted for a little, sipping at their drinks, but Rowan’s eyes kept sliding out the window, fixing on something in the distance.

Gavin followed her gaze, his focus settling on a greenspace, the entrance to a park. And just beyond the park entrance he could make out a group of kids shrieking as they raced through a little splash pad.

Rowan opened her mouth, closed it again, her hands wrapping around her plastic cup.

He angled his head to the side, flicking his gaze between her and the splash pad, the strange ache returning to his chest.

It took him a long moment to identify what it was, as his focus shifted back to Rowan, as his mind wandered once more to the hazy fantasy tucked in the back of his mind.

Longing. It was longing.

“Gavin,” she said at last, her eyes growing distant, like she was watching something in her mind’s eye, something tucked deep inside of her. “Have you ever…”

She trailed off, and Gavin was certain he knew what she was thinking of now.

They’d talked about it a little, back when they were dating, and again after they’d returned home from their wedding and honeymoon. And it had come up here and there, when they walked past aisles of childrens toys or walked past a youth soccer game or when Rowan received an invitation to a baby shower.

But maybe it was time to talk about it in earnest. Maybe now it was time to move past talking.

“Have you ever thought…” Her voice cracked as she again trailed off, her head dipping down, casting her eyes down to the scratched surface of the table.

How did she ask it? How did she find the right words?

‘I know we’ve talked about having kids before, but have you ever thought about us trying for real?’

Certainly she couldn’t just say that. It was ridiculous, she was sure he would think she’d gone mad, that the sun and the summer heat had gotten to her.

But the thought had always been buried deep in her heart, the quiet want that had always seemed to grow a little more with every passing day. And then today there had been the two little kids racing around the store, calling for their mama as she’d carried their treats and drinks to a little picnic table across the street.

Rowan had followed the sound of their laughter, her gaze fixing on the splash pad not far from the picnic tables in the park across the street. And it had been hard to not imagine, to stop herself from imagining, carrying a tray of drinks and snacks for her own children. With amber eyes like Gavin and chubby cheeks and little dimples that always came out like the sun after a storm when they smiled.

Perhaps they would run screeching through the splash pad, terrorizing each other and her and Gavin. Perhaps they would sit and chatter quietly, perhaps they would try to drag her onto the splash pad with them.

It hurt a little, the ache in her chest where the longing had buried itself like roots. They had agreed, initially, to enjoy their time just the two of them for a while. But she…

She sighed, shaking her head as the words to her question dried up on her tongue once more. She was being ridiculous, she didn’t even know why she was asking this. It was Gavin’s birthday, the focus was supposed to be on him. On making him happy. On making sure he was kept distracted until his final surprise was ready.

She opened her mouth to dismiss what she had been trying to say, but Gavin cut her off before she could.

“I have,” he said, his eyes following the same trajectory as hers had earlier. “I have thought about it.”

She didn’t know how she knew, she was no telepath, she had no evol to speak of. But somehow, deep in her belly, Rowan knew he was talking about kids. About wanting to have kids, too.

She felt like she was walking on ice, the raging ocean a few inches from her feet churning furiously, daring her to take another step, daring her to risk going forward, further out to see.

She swallowed. “And?”

The late afternoon sunlight was the gold of autumnal leaves, and it refracted into millions of rainbows as it spilled across Gavin’s face, catching in his eyes, glittering with magic.

“I think we should talk about it more,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I think we should try.”

Delicate wings of sunshine and silken petals swarmed her chest and belly in a typhoon, whipped around and around the invisible wind in her heart.

She didn’t know she had leaned forward until almost her entire torso was stretched across the table, both her hands grasping Gavin’s now, her heart’s rhythm stumbling from excitement.

“Really? You really mean it?”

Gavin laughed, his hair turning to gold in that brilliant sunshine. “I really mean it.”

She sat back, beaming. “That makes me really happy, babey.”

He arched a brow, mischief in his eyes now. “How happy?”

She pulled her hands away, taking hold of her cup once more. “I don’t think I like your tone.”

“I’m only asking so I know how you’re going to treat me later tonight.”

His voice dipped low, turning sultry, and Rowan considered tossing her iced tea over her head to douse the heat curling in her belly.

She sniffed, pretending like she was unbothered. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

When they were done their drinks they returned back to wandering, and Rowan was finally able to drag him into the little bookshop she’d seen.

Her reasons for bringing him in were two-fold: one, to buy herself a little more time because she hadn’t gotten the all clear text yet, and two, because she really wanted to look at a few books with him.

They likely would have covered more ground had they split up, but at this point it was a sort of tradition to wander around together, whether they were on a mission or not.

Neither of them had brought anything with them to read, and Rowan thought staying at the yurt would be a golden opportunity to rest and catch up on doing the fun little things they liked doing together. Like building lego sets and reading together.

It was a little game they had started years ago, picking out one or two books they thought the other would enjoy. Rowan ran her eyes over the colourful spines of different fiction titles, trying to determine what her husband would like best.

Something in space, perhaps? To fit with their trip? Perhaps something completely different, a genre he didn’t normally read?

She considered buying him a mystery novel, but Gavin was notorious for getting about halfway through any murder mystery and solving it and stuffing the book full of sticky notes and messy thoughts crammed into the margins, making the books unreadable.

So perhaps mystery was out of the question.

From the corner of her eye she caught Gavin sliding something from the shelf.

“What’s that?” She asked, turning her head to the side, tipping it back as Gavin stiffened.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, snorting when she tried moving closer. “You don’t get to see it.”

She pouted. “Why not!”

“Because it’s my birthday, and I said so.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.”

She disentangled her hand from his marching away.

“Pumpkin, where are you going?”

She jutted her chin up, deciding that although normally they would wander together, today they would not.

“If I can’t see what you’re looking at then you can’t see what I am!”

She could hear his laughter, warm and sweet as melting honey, chasing at her heels.

It made her consider turning back around. But no, she would pick something out for him on her own, and then she would get to give him two surprises today.

She wandered for a while, scanning the titles in the science fiction section over and over, considering the options. Perhaps she could get him the book about space necromancers? It was in space, but she remembered reading some reviews that it got quite confusing at parts.

She pulled the book from the shelf anyways, tucking it against her chest as she continued to browse. It was his birthday, she could get him another.

She ran into Gavin after she’d made her third selection, deciding Gavin deserved lots of options, and she’d hastily covered the book covers with her hands before he could take a peak.

“Don’t look!”

He closed his eyes, sighing, but there was a smile dancing on his lips, belying his facsimile of fatigue.

“So you want a few more minutes?”

She looked down at the books in her arms, scanning the titles quickly before giving him a firm nod. “I’m ready!”

He opened his eyes, gesturing to the register with a jerk of his head. “Then shall we go?”

They purchased separately, and were soon wandering through the town again. Rowan clutched the paper bag of books against her chest, the crinkle of paper beneath her fingers making her smile. She hoped Gavin liked what she picked out. She hoped he would be happy.

She eyed the sun, haloed by wispy white clouds. It was so warm, and her eyes felt heavy, like they would close at any moment. She wanted to find a nice patch of grass and take a nap, curled up in a buttery sunbeam until nighttime washed over the world and the stars bloomed in the sky.

Beside her, Gavin yawned, his head falling back, the sun washing over his face as his eyes squeezed shut.

Rowan wished she was a photographer, or perhaps a painter. She wished she could capture that moment, when he was gilded by sunlight, his hair ruffled, his cheeks pink from the sun.

But instead she tucked it away in her memories, leaning against him as he straightened.

“I feel like I could use a nap,” he admitted, letting her tug him past a crowd outside an ice cream shop. “Do you want to head back yet?”

She shook her head, stomach twisting into knots.

Not yet.

“I want to wander around a little more,” she said instead, squeezing his hand.

He just smiled, seeming content to be dragged around. “As you wish.”

They wandered aimlessly, popping into the different shops that lined the rustic “olde towne” they had found. There were hat shops and dress stores and a shop that specialized in wool sweaters imported from Ireland.

There were little bakeries and a used bookshop and a flower shop, where Gavin purchased Rowan a small bouquet of peonies, some of her favourite flowers.

She had lifted the pale pink blooms to her nose when she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. Relief washed over her and she sighed, breathing in the sweet smell of the peonies.

“Before we go,” she said, swinging Gavin’s arm between them. “Do you think we could walk through that park? It looks like it’s nice and shaded and it might be nice.”

“Lead the way.”

Again that relief swelled, followed by delight and excitement that tumbled and tangled together in a tumult in her chest. She was so excited she could barely keep her breathing in check as she walked with Gavin through the park, passing the splash pad and the raucous group of children racing through it. As they walked deeper into the park, passing older couples and people walking dogs and teenagers rollerblading past them.

The sun had finally begun to set, too, painting fiery shades of orange and copper and red across the once-cerulean sky. It looked like someone had taken a flame to a canvas, letting the blue paint turn to smoke and memory.

A soft wind chased after the setting sun, ruffling in their hair and snapping at their clothes. The hum of cicadas was a constant symphony, filling the air even as the path began to grow quiet.

Gavin wondered, distantly, if they should turn back. It was still bright and warm, but now that the sun was beginning its descent all he could think of was curling up in bed with Rowan, his head pillowed on the soft curve of her breast. But he was also loath to let the day end, savouring this precious time with her.

He thought nothing of the little copse of trees nearing them on the right, but it did prick through his reverie when Rowan began heading towards it.

“Where are you going?” He asked, stepping onto the grass to follow after her.

But she just turned around, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s a surprise.”

He furrowed his brow, confused. The quiet tinkle of silver bells danced in the wind like the beginning of a melody, and he caught a scrap of blue fluttering from the side of a tree.

He followed behind her, his confusion melting into curiosity, that too melting away when he stepped into the little circle of trees.

There were blue and gold ribbons strung between the trees, knotting and twining together so they formed a silken archway above their heads that shifted and sighed in the wind. Silver wind-chimes had been hung from the tree branches, pealing in bright song. A checkered picnic blanket was stretched across the space, loaded with plates of sweets and cupcakes and sandwiches and salads and meats. To the side there was a little pile of wrapped presents, the silvery wrapping paper seeming to glow in the fading light.

He gaped, awestruck as Rowan took a seat on the blanket. “What is this?”

She spread her arms wide. “It’s for you! It’s your birthday surprise!”

He continued to gape, amazed at what she had done.

“But how did you… When did you…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, even as the question prodded at his mind.

How had she gotten all this done? How had she gotten this all set up when they’d been at the museum all day?

She patted the ground next to her, and Gavin sat, resisting the urge to pull her into his lap and kiss her breathless. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t think of anything at all.

She tucked her hair back, looking a little sheepish. “Please don’t get upset, but I had to get a little help from Eli and some of your colleagues. And maybe Minor too.”

Gavin blinked. Logically he knew that this would mean extensive harassment at work. He could already imagine Eli’s shit eating grin when he came back to work.

And oh the teasing he would get from Minor. He wouldn’t be safe for weeks.

But those thoughts all swept away as he met Rowan’s gaze, as he looked around him at everything she had prepared for him.

His eyes burned, and he had to blink to stop himself from crying. He could feel a lump in his throat, choking off his words, stopping him from telling Rowan how happy he was, how amazed he was.

She watched him quietly, a crease forming between her brows. “Babey? Is everything alright?”

He didn’t even pretend to have any self restraint this time as he gathered her in his arms, dragging her into his lap so he could crush her against his chest.

Rowan gasped, but the sound was quickly muffled as she pressed her face into his hair, her fingers splaying out on his back.

“Thank you,” he managed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He sniffled, feeling like a child as silent tears streamed down his face. “Thank you, Rowan.”

She rubbed his back, massaging gently. “I love you, babey. I love you with all my heart. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”

He sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Happy birthday, Gavin. I’m so happy that you were born.”

He felt like he was shaking, but her arms steadied him. She held him tight, murmuring soft words, gentle words. That she loved him, that he was precious to her, that he was kind and good and strong, that he was so easy to love, that she couldn’t imagine life without him.

He was crying like a child and he couldn’t stop. Not for a long long while as night cast itself over the world, stars emerging like diamonds tossed across the sky.

Gavin peeled away from her slowly, ducking his head so she did not see the stains from his tears. But all Rowan did was cup his cheeks and gently turn his face up, wiping the drying tears with her thumbs.

The song of the windchimes steadied him, helped to bring him back from the haze that had been his tears. He sniffled again, covering Rowan’s hands with his.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you, Rowan. I’m so happy.”

She smiled, more brilliant than the stars, more ethereal than the moon. “I’m so glad. But you haven’t even had the food I prepared yet!”

He released his grip on her, begrudgingly, so she could collect a paper plate for him and begin piling all the food she’d brought onto it.

“I tried my very best to make your favourites,” she sang, stacking two salads on top of each other. “Although you will have to forgive me for the cupcakes. I just couldn’t resist.”

He watched as she settled a small cupcake on the centre of his plate, blue and purple icing swirling together, crusted in gold and silver star-shaped sprinkles.

“It’s all wonderful,” he said, his cheeks warming as she fussed over him and the food. “I’m sure it’s all delicious.”

“Well,” she groused, preparing her own plate now. “I hope so. If anything is bad we can blame Minor.”

He snorted, wholeheartedly agreeing with her. There was no way his Rowan would make anything that didn’t taste good. “Deal.”

He was only about halfway through his food when she started pushing presents towards him, but Gavin tucked them to the side, promising up and down that he would open them later.

“Do you not want them?” She asked, clutching a small bag in her arms.

He had just sunk his teeth into his cupcake, and he chewed quickly. “I do want them, in just a minute, love. I want to enjoy sitting here with you for a moment.”

A flicker of light caught his eye and he looked up, watching as a shooting star streaked across the sky.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in as he spun the magic of his wish.

He wished that he would spend the rest of his birthdays with her. That he would spend every birthday and every day in-between with his Rowan.

He opened his eyes to find her leaning close, her thumb brushing against his face a hairsbreadth from the corner of his lip.

“What is it?”

There was mischief in her eyes as her hand fell away.

“There’s a bit of icing on your face.”

He lifted his brows, his hand coming up to wipe it off. But Rowan batted his hand away, leaning close, so very close he could catch the specks of green buried deep in the sea of her eyes.

Her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth, and he felt her tongue flick against him.

“There,” she sang, sitting back. “All better.”

He felt a little out of sorts, his breathing heavy, his heartbeat stumbling like a toddler in a race. There was heat in his core, a tightness in his pants that he struggled to ignore.

He eyed the presents piled on his side, then Rowan again, who looked more than a little proud of herself and her shenanigans.

“You know,” he said, shifting closer, pinching a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, letting his voice turn sultry and soft. “I think there’s something else I’d much rather unwrap right now.”

Rowan smacked his arm, feigning outrage. But all it did was make Gavin laugh, made the heat in his belly grow, made his head feel a little like he’d drunk an entire bottle of champagne.

He swiped his finger across the icing of a cupcake, wiping his finger against Rowan’s cheek.

“There,” he murmured, sucking the rest of the icing from his finger. “Now we’re even.”

He didn’t have a moment to react before an entire cupcake was being smushed against his face, cake crumbling over his shirt, icing streaking down his neck.

Rowan cackled, wiping her hand on the blanket. “Now we’re even.”

Laughter bubbled in his chest, brilliant as sunshine, light as spun sugar. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her close, wiping his messy face against her throat.

Rowan shrieked, squirming in his arms. “Gavin that tickles! Let go!”

But he in fact did not let go, nuzzling his face more against her, smearing icing all over her throat and her collar and part of her shirt. He nipped at her skin, licking some of the icing as she continued to gasp and squeal, her hands smacking his arms uselessly.

“Gavin!”

He hummed, his nose bumping against her chin.

“Gavin that tickles!”

Finally he relented, releasing her just enough so she could breathe, but keeping her firmly in his lap.

“That was uncalled for,” she wheezed, trying and failing to glare at him as she wiped her palm across her chest.

He shrugged, grinning. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“But I had fun,” he said, running a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face, golden candy stars getting caught in her bangs. “And since it’s my birthday…”

She groaned, throwing her head back. “Okay okay, you win.”

He chewed on his lip for a moment, a habit he’d picked up from Rowan as he regarded her carefully.

“Rowan?”

She straightened, her hands falling to his shoulders. “Hmm?”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft as feather down. “Thank you for this.”

Her gaze softened too, and she cupped his face, her fingers still sticky with icing. “Babey, I love you more than I can say. I just want you to have a happy birthday.”

How did he explain to her that every birthday now was happy? That she had reminded him that he was alive, that the world was beautiful, that there was still joy to be had in the smallest of things? How did he explain to her that every birthday he was happy he had been born, that he was happy he was beside her?

How did he tell her that every day with her was a gift, was more precious than any newborn star or glittering galaxy could be?

He didn’t know how, didn’t have the words to say it right. So instead he kissed her, gentle this time, tasting the sweet buttercream of the icing and the sugar of the sprinkles and the chocolate of the cupcakes on her.

She was his star, his guiding light. She’d brought warmth and happiness back into his life, she’d brought him laughter, brought him joy and comfort and love.

He felt like he might cry again, but did his best to hold it back. He wanted to enjoy the rest of the evening before they packed up, he wanted to take his time tasting the different foods she’d brought while he opened the gifts, and then he wanted to return to their cabin and take his time tasting all of her.

She sighed as they broke apart, her eyes closed, icing caught in her lashes as they splayed across her cheek.

He grinned, unable to stop himself, feeling a ghost of that earlier laughter bubbling in his throat.

“Rowan?”

She opened her eyes, peering at him curiously.

He gestured to the icing smeared over them both, smiling. “Will you help me clean this up?”

She laughed, plucking a napkin from the little basket perched nearby. The windchimes sang in tandem, the melodies twining together in a starlit song that sent gossamer wings flitting in his heart.

Rowan kissed his cheek, sending warmth spilling through him like sunshine across a wildflower field. “As you wish, my love.”

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