sunkissed, worldless

13

"You would think the end of the world is more depressing than whatever this is."

"What gave you that impression?"

They're sitting on a cliff outside of the city, overlooking the fractured order of the streets where the lines don't look like lines anymore. Anya showed her this spot, highschool sweethearts in a parked car. But Adele remembered a night looking for shooting stars with a cheap telescope borderlining on a toy.

"You would think we die because some war took both sides out," she says. "Took everyone else out with them."

They're a murderous bunch, humans. Anya lived through wars, tensioned times. A black woman in the States doesn't seem like simpler times. It's arguably the simplest it's ever been now.

"You tempt too much," Olivia accuses, but no bite, "The universe is listening. Our ancestors are listening."

Adele cracks a smile at that, continues, "Technically it didn't happen."

When it does happen, it will be fiery, it will be tragic, it will be death. Uncountable disasters sweeping through the land but that hasn't manifested. They're sent back to the stone ages and people are convinced of things that can't be proven but Adele too wants to believe in things that can't be proven. Like wanting everything to turn out okay.

"Yet."

She sighs. "Yet."

Is it dumb to say something so obvious?

"We're so bad at this." Olivia leans forward, hugs her knees into her chest. "We're so bad at living."

"Not the worst case scenario."

"Still hard to be optimistic," she counters.

"Maybe," Adele muses. They still manage in their little farm town, and the reinvention of plumbing. They still manage to purchase rebuilt generators for the wind turbines at the Pass. Brick by brick.

She turns to Olivia and it's the gravity of these past few days weighing on her. How much they've been distant because they have their separate jobs and go to bed in their parents' house, a street apart from each other. She hated that, hated she still has to wait for arbitrary age limits until she's 18 and she'll magically make the best decisions.

Some things seem too simple to solve, it's a trick question. It's poetry, what does it all mean? Sweeping conclusions, like they know what's best for the world but she's convinced she does. She does know what good is. Adele does know what she wants.

"Eunhye."

Olivia-Eunhye is taken aback for a moment, confused but isn't asking any questions. "Hey,"—that's probably a pun, Adele stifles the urge to roll her eyes when she pulls on the syllable— "Bro."

Beat.

"You didn't just bro me."

"I've done it before."

"Don't say it when I'm trying to kiss you," she protests. It comes out too earnest, not enough panic from her voice to know how shaky she is inside, the way she essentially spat her emotions on the spot and didn't bat an eye.

Olivia smiles sheepishly, then leans back, looks at the sky, a pale and struck lilac. A color too close to the violet before tragedy, like on the night of the Blackout, on the side of the Earth still in broad daylight.

She's distracted again, and this time Adele doesn't have to make cheesy use of her name to get her attention because she turns, blinks languidly at her. She opens her mouth to say something, dismisses it and that's her cue to fill in the gaps.

"I like you," she blurts.

There's a relief in her smile, the way her shoulders splayed. "I like you too. A lot."

"For two years?"

Olivia shrugs. "Around the same time."

"You," Adele lets out a sigh. "You've been flirting with me."

Olivia throws her head back like she wants to laugh but doesn't, avoids meeting her in the eye. "I'm a useless flirt," she admits sloppily. "Flirt is all I can ever do."

Adele noticed a difference, she can't tell you the difference but there was one in the way Olivia acts, says things. They're both on the down low. "So I wasn't going crazy."

"No, I was."

And this for some reason doesn't feel as dramatic, the way it played out in her head. But then again, the Olivia in her head doesn't answer her confessions. Adele laughs, choking almost on the truth of it all, tries to claw the embarrassed smile off her face.

"I like your laugh."

She stares. "I like it when you're sappy."

"I like your golden heart."

"I like your delicate brushstrokes."

"I like your way with words."

"I like—"

"Okay, stop, timeout." Olivia straightens up, swings her arms back and forth. "We get it."

"I get it," Adele echoes, then musters up the courage to ask next, "Kiss?"

The first time they kiss, it's short. Simply lips leaning into each other and a small exchange of what their meek confessions must've looked to an outsider. They're still apart, resting against their arms.

The aftermath, however, wrecks her.

Her chest is bottomless and her heart is floating, and for once when the wind is still, it squeezes into the spaces between her ribs instead. It takes every fiber of her being to speak again, but she's on the brim of losing out her giddy smile, restrains it to look cool in front of her crush— future girlfriend?

The thought is hushed.

"Yeah, okay," she manages, testing the newfound levity. "You're glowing again."

The sun is still up, what little sliver on the horizon is left.

"You're glowing too." Offers her hands to compare the amount of soft radiating light coming off of each other. The difference is stark, but only for reasons that make sense.

Olivia looks up. "You wanted to do that since forever, right?" She smirks, teases her by tucking her hair behind her ear and twirling it in her fingers.

And there it was.

"Shut up."

Olivia flops onto the ground as Adele pushes her away and laughs big and loud and uncontrollable. She doesn't regain her composure when Adele asks if she's alright but suppose it's a truthful joy. Olivia doesn't care about looking cool because she doesn't need to. Because Adele would always think she's cool.

Son Olivia is the coolest fucking person she's ever met.

—

"Where to?"

"We could go home or..."

"We could leave."

"I've never seen the ocean."

"Me neither."

And they made up their minds, go missing for a while.

The second time they kissed, it's while the waves crashed at their feet and it pulls the sand from underneath them, washing further in until they're anchored deep. It's the longing, it's the sun kissing the ocean behind them too. But Adele has Olivia right here in her hands, and her hands in her curls, and the sun sets.