“Whatever you decide to do with your songs is entirely up to you, but I’m hoping that you get to hear them, at least once, the way I do.”
“And what do you hear, Q?”
“Magic.” Snow clung to his eyelashes and hair. “I hope there’s at least a small part of you that’s happy to hear them again.”
Raya looked up at the painted sky. “I don’t know if I should be grateful or mad at you for taking us here. Out of all the books that we could have killed time in, why did you want to come here?”
“I didn’t.”
“But you told Rasmus that—”
“I didn’twantto come here, Raya. Ineededto. Who knows when and how this night will end? Who knows if we’ll make it to morning? I don’t want to kill time. I need to make the most out of every second we have left and use them to get to know as much about you as I can.” Q shifted his gaze to the ocean. “I almost ended everything on a train track surrounded by strangers. If I’m going to die tonight, I’d like to spend my last moments with a friend.”
Raya closed her eyes, letting the snow fall over her lids. It melted on her lashes and ran down her cheeks like tears. “I’d like that too.”
“Are we friends, Raya?”
“I’m not sure.” Raya smiled. “Maybe something stranger.”
Q chuckled. “I’ll take that. Considering how we met inside a giant flower—” His eyes flew to the ocean and back to Raya.
“What is it?”
“We…we didn’t meet at the Lotus.”
“What are you talking about? Of course we did.”
Q shook his head. “A part of us met here before we ever boarded this train. On this ocean. Surrounded by your music.”
“You dreamt about my songs…”
“And painted them.” Q gently turned her face toward him and held her gaze. “The best parts of ourselves have known each other our whole lives.”
“And we didn’t even know it.” A sad smile flitted over Raya’s lips. She tugged it higher to form a happier one. “We don’t have to worry about spending our last moments with a stranger then. Just strange friends.”
“I don’t want these to be our last moments at all.”
“That’s not something we can promise each other, I’m afraid.”
“Then let’s not make promises. Let’s just make up a story with a happy ending. We’re inside a book. What better place to play make-believe?”
“Sure.” Raya smiled. “Why not? It’s not as if we have something better to do.”
“I’ll start.” Q grinned, sitting up straight. “What would be the first thing you’d do on your first morning as a certified passenger on the Elsewhere Express? I’m dying to try the buffets. Did you see the honey-garlic spareribs at the Dragonfly? And the drunken prawns?”
“I’ll have that bottle of Shiraz that you offered at the tree house,” Raya said.
Q laughed. “For breakfast?”
“Says the person who wants ribs and prawns.” Raya elbowed him. “I’m not judging. Snow globes are supposed to be safe spaces.”
“Okay, okay.” Q chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. Please, continue.”
“Thank you.” Raya bowed her head with a smirk. “Well, afterfinishing my lovely Shiraz, I’d ask you to paint me something. The train’s bared my soul to you and all I’ve seen of your work is a star and a hatch.”
“I’d show my work to you if I could, but—”
“You know what?” Raya rummaged through her tote and pulled out a notebook and pen. “You can. Rasmus said that all we needed to have a place to wait in were words bound between covers.” She handed the notebook to Q. “Here. All that’s missing are words. Write your address down.”
