Nate's smirk is knowing.
"Just a really good friend.Come on, there's something I really want to show you."
We approach a door at the back of the space, and he stops suddenly, turning to face me.
"Close your eyes."
"Nate—"
He steps closer, and suddenly we're sharing the same air, the same small circle of candlelight.
His voice drops to barely above a whisper.
"Trust me.Please."
I let my eyes fall shut, and immediately the world becomes texture and sound and sensation.I hear the door open, feel his hand settle against the small of my back—warm and sure and sending electricity up my spine.
He guides me forward slowly, and I'm acutely aware of his presence beside me, the careful way he steers me around obstacles I can't see.
"Okay," he says softly."Open."
When I do, I forget how to breathe.
The room has been transformed into a galaxy.
Thousands of tiny lights hang from the ceiling at different heights, creating the illusion of floating among stars.Mirrors line the walls, reflecting the lights infinitely until the boundaries of the room disappear entirely.
In the center, a projection maps constellations across the floor, slowly rotating as if we're spinning through space itself.It's like standing inside the universe's heartbeat, surrounded by the vast and beautiful mystery of everything we can't fully understand.
"Happy eighteenth birthday, Len."He whispers from behind me.
The close proximity sends shockwaves through my entire nervous system.
"Oh my...wow."My voice comes out breathless, overwhelmed.
"I can't claim I did this all on my own."
My heart beats harder than ever and all I can think is, "You know, if this moment had a song," I whisper, "it would be'Champagne Supernova.'"
"Yeah?"His voice is soft, curious."Why's that?"
I turn to look at him, and in the soft starlight, his face is open and wondering.For a moment, we're not complicated by history or other people or the careful distance we've been maintaining.
We're just two people floating among artificial stars, sharing something beautiful.
"Because this might be one of my favorite moments.Ever."
Nate’s gaze lingers on me for a beat longer than feels fair, warmth softening the sharp blue of his eyes.Then he slips a hand behind him.
Before I can ask, he pulls my camera—the one he bought me—from his back pocket.
“I grabbed it before we left,” he says, almost sheepish, almost proud.“Figured this could be a moment to capture.”
He lifts it, frames me without warning.
I barely have time to breathe before the shutter snaps.
“Nate!”I laugh, instinctively bringing a hand to my face.“You didn’t even warn me.”
