“It’s still your favourite, right?” Her smile widens and her shoulders pull back with a hint of pride.

  “Down to the flavour as well… I didn’t imagine you could find one here.”

  She reaches behind the cake and pulls out a knife wrapped in a cloth. “There’s this cute bakery,” she explains as she unwraps the knife and starts slicing the dessert. “It has such an incredible range of pastries and cakes—from baklava to croissants to lamingtons. Oh, there was this beautiful pavlova but it was way too big.”

  She reaches out for my plate and I pass it to her. Realisation catches up to me as she gives it back with a delicious slice and a small fork. Perrin has been so considerate of me today—inviting me out for Christmas Eve, sending me kind words, buying me my favourite dessert.

  I was getting in my own way by focusing so much on how I used to think when all along I’ve been given the perfect chance to allow someone else take the lead for once. By the pure kindness of Perrin’s soul, I have received the greatest gift of all.

  Perrin gives herself a piece and then holds it up to the light with a squeal. “Look how pretty it is!”

  “Very pretty,” I respond as I watch her sparkling eyes.

  We indulge in the sweet dessert. Sweet whipped cream and slices of mango are layered between chiffon sponge. The top of the cake is covered in mango cheek with halved strawberries forming a circle.

  I serve us both a second piece and by then we’ve made it through half the cake already. It’s so light that I could eat the entire thing on my own.

  As I’m taking another bite, Perrin stares out of the open arches of the gazebo. I follow her gaze into the sky. The clouds have parted to reveal a half-moon watching us from above. Out here, far from the city, hundreds of stars twinkle for us tonight.

  “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispers.

  My hand pauses centimetres away from my mouth.

  “What?”

  “The moon.” She turns to me as she licks a bit of cream off her fork. “What do you think?”

  I let out a sigh and busy my mouth with more cake to avoid saying more. She didn’t know the poetic implications of that phrase. The way it has transcended Japanese history into modern literature as a declaration of adoration. A declaration of love.

  My lack of response leads to another question from her. “Also, you never replied to my text. The big one. Are you… okay with what I said?” She keeps the fork in her mouth and doesn’t dare to move as she waits for my answer.

  Okay, yes. Unscathed, no.

  “It meant a lot to hear that from you,” I answer, truthfully. “And… I have a better understanding of how you felt now. I’m sorry that things turned out that way.”

  It’s hard to imagine an alternate future where I didn’t walk away from her because I was young then and I am still young now. Young people get angsty and easily defensive, and solve their problems by running away. Even if I could go back in time, awareness wasn’t the same as having the appropriate response. A part of me still thinks this was the best outcome.

  She shrugs with a small smile. “My feelings weren’t exactly your responsibility. I always know your choices have a lot of thought behind them.”

  Not always. Sometimes they have more feeling than thought.

  She finishes off her piece and puts the plate down, and then moves over to the esky that is sitting out of the way. Her hand digs around in there for a little while before she pulls out her camera.

  “Wait, you had it the whole time?” I scrape the last bits of cream from my plate and then stack it on top of Perrin’s. “You could’ve taken a sunset photo earlier.”

  “I could’ve but I did promise I wasn’t going to work on my project while I was here.”

  “So why do you have it?”

  “Well—” She shyly looks away as she lightly taps the shutter button. “I told myself on the way up that I’d ask my fellow residents about taking self-portraits. I know you aren’t a photographer but you have… eyes.”

  I burst into a laugh. “I have eyes?”

  “There’s more than that!” Her face flushes red. “I mean, you can see me in a way that I can’t see myself. I don’t know how to take self-portraits properly because I don’t know my angles, my features.”

  “So, you want me to tell you your best features?” There were lots of those but I’d bury myself in the sand before I started listing them off for her.

  “Don’t tell me,” she says and then she moves towards me on her knees. She sits on her heels, close enough that her thighs fill the gap that my crossed legs leave between my knees. Then, I’m handed the camera. I receive it in both hands, staring at her in question and hesitance. “I want you to show me,” she whispers.

  I feel like I need to splash cold water on my face all of a sudden. Why did that sound so… intimate?

  She folds her hands on her thighs, though I can see she watches me inspect the camera. I find the ‘on’ button and it plays a familiar chime.

  In an imitation of Perrin’s craft, I bring the camera to my eye. It’s strange to look at Perrin through this little window. Surreal, as well. In a way, the camera becomes my eyes, guided by Perrin’s request.

  I take the first picture, just pointing the lens her way. It’s… not great. Perrin looks stiff and unsure of herself. While being nervous is a small part of her, it doesn’t capture any of her best self.

  I lower the camera. “Hey, why don’t you think about something that makes you happy?”

  “Something that makes me happy?”

  “Yeah, and tell me about it while I’m taking your picture.”

  Perrin thinks for a moment, rocking side to side with a hum. “Okay… got it!”

  As I bring the camera back into position, Perrin tells me about the meals we’ve had over the week. She starts with the roast I made for our first dinner, then the alternating meals her and I made for each other.

  The smile on her face and the passion in her voice are exactly what I want. I could’ve just asked her to smile for the camera, but that wasn’t enough. I snap a picture of her mid-rant and then show it to her.

  She frowns at the photo preview. “Aw, my eyes are closed.”

  “True, but that’s not a bad thing. You look happy like that. I think it can be hard to take a nice picture of yourself when you’re not letting yourself act natural.”

  She chuckles. “I think acting natural and taking my own picture don’t go together. Remember, this is how I’m trying to learn self-portraits.”

  “Hmm… maybe I can try it another way then.”

  I look at what I have to work with through the camera lens, leaning back slightly to properly frame a portrait shot.

  “Can you sit like you were before? With your legs on the side?” I ask.

  She follows my instructions, balancing herself on the other side with one hand. Her shoulders tilt to flow with the rest of her body. I take extra caution to make sure it doesn’t look like I’m checking her out as I follow the shape of her body with the camera.

  “Now, can you just move your head a bit to the left… your left. Chin up, slightly.”

  As Perrin makes those slight adjustments with a nervous smile, I question how she can do this all the time, especially if photo shoots can get as personal as this. The intensity of staring at her with a purpose, sitting so closely that I can feel the heat rising from her skin, and knowing her desire to look favourable by my eyes and for the camera… it all stirs butterflies in my stomach. I want to reach my hand out, to disrupt the idea that the picture on the other side is untouchable.

  “Is everything okay?” Perrin’s lips move on the other side of the camera.

  “Yes— I’m just not used to using a camera,” I mumble. A half-truth. My head is spinning a little but I’m not sure if it’s from staring through the camera for too long or how sea salt and burnt wood mixes with her flowery scent.

  I lean closer. She looks right at the camera but doesn’t lean back.

  I lift my hand to her cheek. She doesn’t flinch.

  I trail my fingers down her face, letting the heel of my palm sit on her neck, just under her jaw. She tilts her head to the side for me, all the while keeping her eyes on me.

  I take a photo of her like this. Pink-faced with wide eyes and lips parted; her face in my hand; her movements under my control. Sudden warmth rushes through my body. This wasn’t a picture anyone else could see, this was a picture only I had the honour of composing.

  I go to pull my hand away but she catches my wrist.

  “Perrin?” My throat dries as I steady my grip on the camera. “What are you doing?”

  Her other hand pushes the camera down and turns it off. She takes it from me and puts it to the side. I’m forced to face the reality that I have created.

  “Inari, I have a question.”

  Oh gods, I went too far, didn’t I? For someone she considers so smart, I am terrible at holding my feelings.

  Spit pools on my tongue and I swallow before I answer. “What’s your question?” My eyes dart around to avoid looking at her but I can’t fully look away.

  “Do you…” She purses her lips and turns her head to the side. But, with my hand still on her cheek, I guide her back.

  With a deep exhale, she asks, “Do you still like me?”

  “Like you?” A shiver runs down my spine. The question is right there but I refuse to process it.

  “…Romantically. Do you still… love me?”

  At that moment, I want the wooden flooring beneath me to crumble into dust and drop me into the abyss. I want a beast to rise from the ocean and eat me whole. I want to take everything back—to have been a normal person taking a normal picture.

  I fold my arms across my chest and hold each elbow tightly, my senses being sucked back to that stupid confession years ago when I messed everything up. I’m sorry, Perrin. My chest tightens. I thought— I thought we… you… All I see is the confusion on young Perrin’s face. Her features melt into disappointment. Gods, the disappointment was the worst.

  Then a hand clasps my shoulder. I inhale like I’ve just emerged from a bottomless sea of water, finally able to breathe again.

  It’s the Perrin of right now with concern written all over her face.

  “I’m sorry—” My voice comes out shaky, I can feel it in my throat. Did I never grow up? “This is all a misunderstanding. I think— maybe it’ll be better if I just…” I need to get up as fast as I can without tripping on the picnic blanket and shattering the dessert plates, even when that means crawling on all fours and stumbling to my feet, clutching my head as it spins. “I should go home—”

  “No, don’t go!” Panic is evident in Perrin’s voice.

  I don’t want to hurt her again. But that may as well be a lie when I’m walking away and telling myself it’s the best choice yet again.

  I guide one foot in front of the other, my limbs too heavy to walk normally. The villa was only fifteen minutes from here. Maybe I could make it in thirty at this pace.

  But before I can even step down from the gazebo, Perrin crashes into my back and wraps her arms around me. I freeze.

  “Please,” she begs and it tears my heart in half, “I said don’t go.”

  There are no words I can think to say to fix this. I just shake my head. We stand there for a while. She shows no sign of letting go.

  I take deep breaths of the warm, summer air. As my chest rises and falls, I tune back into the present moment.

  I place my hands on top of hers and tug them. She shakes her head against the back of my shirt.

  “Let me turn around,” I whisper.

  Perrin nods. She loosens her grip but doesn’t pull away. I have to awkwardly shuffle around on the spot to face her, keeping my arms crossed to not get in the way.

  “I didn’t mean to make you upset, Inari,” she says with a dip of her head. The top of her hair almost touches my lips.

  “No, no…” I nudge the side of her face with my hand and she looks up at me. “It’s like you said before. It wasn’t your responsibility and I… I was immature to react that way.”

  She pouts. “But it didn’t look like… you chose to? I’m not a psychologist or anything, but I think you aren’t immature if you… react like that by accident.”

  “Involuntarily,” I correct and that turns her pout into a smile and an eye roll.

  “Right. Involuntarily. But still, I’m sorry.” Then she averts her gaze. I can feel her fidgeting with her fingers against my back. “I was only asking because…”

  While I feel more prepared for whatever she is going to say this time, I can’t help but notice how every part of me that is touching Perrin tingles with pins and needles.

  Her expression steels in determination and she blurts out, “Because I love you, Inari!”

  “What?!” Just like that, the fear of repeating last time floods away, replaced by disbelief. “Say that… say that again?”

  She finally lets go of me as she covers her face with her hands. “I love you, Inari. I think I have for a little while.” Her voice is muffled but the words ring loud in my ears.

  “Since when?” I ask far too eagerly, but any care for that was gone too. This was either real, or a dream, and either way it meant there were no consequences.

  “There’s no ‘since when’. It was just… seeing you again like this…”

  I grab her hands and pull them down. Behind her palms is a shy smile.

  Her lips slightly quiver before she keeps going. “It made me realise how wonderful you actually are, and how much that mattered to me. You’re so put-together and creative and resilient. You’re dedicated to what you do, and at the same time, you don’t hesitate to help me when I ask. You’ve always been like this and even though we haven’t spoken in a while, even though we’ve just had this week, I want more. More weeks, more of you, more time to work things out because my heart is bursting!”

  By the end of her speech, she’s bouncing on her feet and I laugh, scooping her up in my arms and holding her tightly.

  “Do you really feel that way?” I ask, half-teasing, half-making-sure, with my face buried in her shoulder.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever been so sure about feeling this way, Nari.”

  “What does that mean?” Her patience for my clarifying questions is a blessing, just like her.

  She pulls back with her arms wrapped around my neck as she replies, “I think I’m demiromantic. You’re the only person who has, let’s say, passed the test?”

  I give her a sly smile. “I didn’t realise there was a test. I would’ve studied.”

  “Ah—” She blinks at me. “Maybe you did… depending on your answer to my question…s.”

  Do you still like me? Do you still love me?

  A truth that haunted me, that I was so desperate to run away from as it surfaced like a bad habit. When laying my eyes upon Perrin for the first time in the Sunlit Creative Space was an invitation for disaster. Now, it bridges what tore us apart the first time.

  “Yes,” I say with a determination that matches hers, grounding myself with my hands on her hips. “Yes, I love you, Perrin. So much that my love for you wouldn’t go away. That when I saw you again, I was afraid of continuing to love you. No matter how much I try to deny it, I think you will always have a place in my heart.” I shake my head with a low chuckle. “And the way you don’t realise when you’re flirting… that just made it worse.”

  Perrin nods furiously and her eyes gloss over with tears. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but what for?” I swipe away a stray tear on her cheek.

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if this was my first heartbreak.”

  “I didn’t realise that was an option.” Truthfully so. If I broke Perrin’s heart, that would have been an even stronger incentive to let the sea take me away.

  Her smile brightens and her gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips. I instinctively wet my lips with my tongue.

  “Is this when we’re supposed to kiss?” Perrin asks quietly.

  I pull her closer and bring one hand to her cheek. “Only if you want to.” I lean in and run the pad of my thumb along the edge of her bottom lip. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  She gasps, the red of her cheeks deepening. “Yes, please.”

  When I first fell head over heels for this girl, I never imagined our first kiss to be under a gazebo on a beach hours away from home. I didn’t imagine the way Perrin would tightly hold the collar of my shirt as she melted into the kiss, or the way I couldn’t get enough of her lips tasting of mango and cream. It’s explosive and beautiful and electric and heartwarming all at the same time.

  We don’t part until we run out of breath and Perrin stumbles back and I catch her.

  “Wow,” she says, looking up at me with shining eyes. “Kiss me again?”

  I grin and kiss her again, twice, thrice, and one more time.

  She giggles between each one. When I stop, she lets out a dreamy sigh. “If I knew it was going to feel that nice, maybe I could’ve fallen in love faster.”

  “Don’t think about it like that,” I say, tracing circles on the edge of her sarong. I still can’t believe that we’re talking about this right now, that I’m holding her like this, that we had our first kiss and more. “You fell in your own time, and I think it all works out better that way.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. There’s nothing wrong with your timing. Actually, it makes your declaration of love even more special.”

  She squeals and hugs me tightly. I hug her back and her warm breath tickles my ear as she whispers to me.

  “Maybe you can show me what else can feel nice when I’m with you, Nari.”

  Chapter 9

  Perrin

  As Inari shuts the front door with a click, I stand on my tiptoes and take in a deep breath of our dim-lit villa, scanning the downstairs with more appreciation than ever before. It’s nice to be home again, warming in a way that’s different from the sunshine or a bonfire, existing within me and around me.