𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝔞 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶

« 🥀 » 𝐜𝚑. 6

-͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

(𝑛.) 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

As summer arrives, Bomi finds herself appreciating the night for the cooler temperatures, and she tells Ethan of this.

The next time they go to the rooftop, it's later in the evening: around ten, when it's been long enough since the sun has set for it to cool down.

"Better?" Ethan asks once they're in the shade of the rooftop.

Bomi nods, eyes closing contentedly as she leans against Ethan.

After a moment, Ethan pokes her arm gently. "I didn't just bring you here this late to cool off."

Bomi sits up again, though she makes sure to shoot a displeased stare at him in false irritation. "Then what?"

He points upwards. "Look up."

She does. She expects the moon there with its pearly sheen, drifting through clouds like always.

What she doesn't expect is a wondrous view of stars in the sky.

Having lived in Seoul, the biggest city in Korea, Bomi has never been able to see a sky full of stars in real life.

She doesn't think the stars resemble diamonds.

Rather, they look like tiny pinpricks of light- like some greater power had hung beacons of hope for every lost soul in the world into the sky.

"There's a blackout in this part of the city to check the electricity or something." Ethan says. "I took a chance."

He's beaming, and after a second, Bomi realizes she is too.

Ethan's looking at her, and she can't decipher his expression; it's too dark to see.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks him.

He pauses.

"I'm thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now."

She's surprised but in a pleasant way. She hears her own breath catch nearly imperceptibly. She gives the faintest of nods and whispers a yes, carried away by the warm summer breeze but audible in the silence.

He shifts ever closer to the point that she can feel his breath on her cheeks. She stares up at him, the way his warm eyes gleam in the dark, at how the starlight is just enough to see the outline of him, beautiful and familiar. She lets his hands cup the side of her face.

She leans in.

There's a butterfly in her chest, and it has spread its wings and broken free at last.

Their little rooftop is gradually filled with things to make it their own.

Ethan drags up two bean bag chairs one day; one is a soft pink and the other's a cloudy blue. He takes the pink one.

They position the two bean bags side by side, and Bomi's the one who brings the blankets they hang up above the two chairs to make a little cozy tent.

Several of Ethan's paintings and a couple of his Polaroid pictures lay on an upturned box that serves as a table, and little string lights decorate the pieces of makeshift furniture that make up their escape from reality.

That is what this is, of course.

A way to deal with the bad times, or just for a touch of comfort: to lay bundled up and safe and warm and together.

She brings her favorite books here, sometimes, and she reads as she drinks the tea Ethan has brewed for her. She shares her favorite scenes with him, reading aloud to him while he draws. She starts to teach him Korean, too. He's a fast learner. Here, she keeps her glasses on.

Ethan often comes here with his Polaroid camera and art supplies. Bomi lets him use her as a model.

Sometimes it's the click of his camera every few minutes, and sometimes he's sketching her when she's reading a book or chewing on her pencil while she works on schoolwork. He doesn't seem to mind the charcoal and pencil leaving his hands with smudges.

Other times, he'll bring a whole palette and a small canvas- he'll paint her in the softest hues of color, her short hair a beautiful swathe of rich black and brown, forever poised to wave in the wind and the golden twinkle of the string lights reflected in her eyes and lips curved into a generous smile.

To Bomi, this is the most beautiful version of herself she has ever seen. She knows that this is what Ethan sees in her.

Sometimes, she wonders how this boy, who has seen the countless faces of models and wondrous sights and views for his paintings, could see what he does when he looks at her.

Every time she does wonder, she remembers that this boy, with his loving eyes of hot chocolate and his unblemished heart of gold, is just as beautiful as his paintings, inside and out. She knows that she deserves him, as he deserves her, and both of them know it.

And she drinks in his presence as he does hers, sees her eyes reflected in his own, and they continue on.