I nodded, my own throat feeling tight. “You love stars. I figured you should see them from the largest Dark Sky Reserve in the world."
She walked to the edge of the deck, looked up at the sky already deepening into dusk, and then back at me. “This is… kind of perfect.”
I joined her, close enough to feel her shoulder brush mine. “Wait till you see it at night.”
She smirked. “If you think this earns you a pass on the kidnapping charges, you’re wrong.”
I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms all the way around her. She melted against my chest, her head fitting perfectly under my chin. I held her like that for a long moment, just breathing her in. Then I pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Worth it.”
Overhead, the sky was utterly black and endlessly deep, crowded with more stars than I'd ever seen in my life. I let my eyes adjust. The longer I looked, the more stars appeared, layer after layer of them, until the sky felt less like a dome and more like a deep, endless ocean.
We lay on the padded loungers, angled up just enough to see the endless sweep of the Milky Way. A thin blanket was pooled across our legs, more for comfort than warmth.
Her finger traced a path through the air. “Orion,” she said, her voice quiet in the immense silence. “My favorite. He’s constant. You can always find him.”
She turned to me and placed her fingers gently on my cheek before tracing one finger across my lips. “It reminds me of you.”
We lay in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, staring back up at the nighttime sky, just taking it in.
I turned my head toward her. “When did you get into all of this? The stars.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “In college,” she said softly. “After my first serious boyfriend.”
I stayed quiet, listening.
“He ghosted me. After a year and a half. Just… vanished one summer.”
Her hand dropped back to her lap. “I learned in an astronomy class that the light from most stars is thousands of years old. That the star itself might already be dead by the time we see its glow.”
She turned her head on the cushion to look at me, her face pale in the starlight. “I remember thinking… maybe love is like that. We see the glow, but it’s already gone by the time we try to reach for it. It felt safer to wish on light that was already gone than to believe in people who were right in front of me.”
She thinks her light has dimmed. She had no idea she's the brightest thing in any room she walks into. The idiot who ghosted her had held a diamond. He had everything and threw it away. And I am the luckiest man alive because of it.
The thought was so absorbing, the world had narrowed to just her face. I was just staring. I didn't know for how long. “What?” she asked, a small, self-conscious smile touching her lips.
I moved without thinking. I swung my legs off my lounger and sat on the edge of hers, the frame creaking softly under my weight. I placed my hands on the padded headrest on either side of her.
“I love watching you,” I said, my voice low.
Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of soft confusion.
I leaned in closer. “I love watching you think.” Closer still. Her breath hitched. “I love that funny face you make when you’re concentrating. When you squint and scrunch your nose.”
A weak, half-hearted swat hit my shoulder. “I do not make a funny face.”
“You do.” I was so close now I could feel her breath on my lips. The universe shrank to the space between us. The stars were just background noise. “And I love it.”
I held her gaze, letting her see the absolute truth in mine. There was no more hiding.
“I love you, Claire.”
I closed the last inch of space and kissed her.
I had never been more certain of anything.
Her lips were soft, cool from the night air, but they warmed instantly against mine. Her hand came up, her fingers sliding into my hair. I poured every ounce of that certainty back into the kiss.
When we finally parted, her eyes were glistening. She brushed her thumb over my cheekbone.
