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Taking the lantern from her and taking hold of her hand, I was led farther and farther down the path.
“Where are we going?”
“Shh, you'll ruin it,” she whispered.
We walked a little more until we came to the same clearing as before. She let out one low whistle, and it echoed in the trees above us. One firefly came shining right in front of us, then a dozen more, and then the whole clearing glowed in the darkness. They were everywhere, like Christmas lights.
“I wanted to show you this before we left. When I was a kid, I thought I could train them or something, to make their lights blink with whatever song I whistled. It didn’t work, obviously, but they did come up when I whistled.” Letting go of my hand, she tried to catch one. She held her hands closed for a second, then opened her fingers slowly, but when she did, there was no firefly. “How is it possible that I can’t catch a firefly in a field of fireflies after all these years?” She laughed at herself.
Putting the lantern down, I came up behind her, wrapping my arms around her to pull her closer to me. When I felt her body, I rested my head beside hers, lifting our hands together.
“Let’s catch them together,” I said softly into her ear.
She leaned into me. “Okay.”
“You have to be really still and wait for them.”
She held her palms open on top of my mine, and we stood there. Her breathing matched mine, her heartbeat felt like mine. And then the firefly, most likely mistaking us for another tree in the forest, came and sat right in her palm, followed by several more.
I wanted to say it then, out loud to the world, but all I could manage was to say it to myself.
I’m in love with you, Guinevere.
Guinevere
By the time we got back to the house, running from the downpour that had suddenly, almost magically poured over everything in Cypress, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I went into my room and, still dripping wet, fell back on my bed. My heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest. I lay there for a moment, staring up at my teal ceiling, my old Orlando Bloom poster still hanging there. When I looked at it, I felt nothing like I had all those years before. The person I was giddy for was one flight of stairs away.
I want to see him. I’d just seen him and I wanted to see him again. My brain wasn’t thinking rationally. I opened the door, and my mom was already walking by. She stopped, turning to me.
“Goodnight,” I said to her.
“Go.” She nodded her head at me. “If your father asks, I’ll take of care of it. Go.”
“Mom—”
“Well, if you don’t want to—”
“Thank you,” I whispered, walking past her and down the hall.
Taking a breath at the top, I walked downstairs as softly as possibly, stepping on the outside parts of the staircase so it wouldn't squeak. When my foot hit the carpet, I saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless, a towel over his head as he stared at a teardrop necklace he dangled by its chain in front of him. Due to the continuing rain, only a bit of light entered the room through the window above the bed.
“It’s pretty,” I whispered.
He froze for a moment, picking his head up to look at me.
His hair was still dripping wet, like all of me at that point. “Who’s it for?”
“You,” he muttered, not moving, his gaze glued to me. “I bought it while in town today. I’ve been trying to think of when to give it to you. The rain killed my moment.”
“Is now a good time?”
He stood, coming over to me, and I turned around. He brushed my hair to the side, bringing the necklace in front of me and clasping it around
my neck. I faced him, and he centered it in the middle of my chest.
Never looking away from him, I pulled off my shirt, dropping it beside my feet.
“Do not tempt me like this, because I will fail,” he said with his hand on my bra strap.
