Her words stuck a chord within him. He imagined how his father had always looked at his mother – like she was the only sun in his universe – and perhaps they hoped he would one day find that kind of light, too. Just as Eilidh had done, Leander silently lets the name she pronounces sink in. It’s a lyrical name, and so similar to Rayelle that a corner of his mouth tilts upward. Perhaps their mothers would have been friends. Maybe they were, even now – looking down on them as two of the brightest stars, shining side by side.
Eilidh’s soft teasing comes as a surprise, but the laugh that escaped him follows so easily. “I’d never hear the end of it,” he agreed, returning with a wry grin, “though I’d have you to blame for telling them about it in the first place.” He couldn’t help but notice the way her smile turned her expression into one of openness. It reminded him of the air – the feeling of wind beneath his wings.
They stayed together under spinning stars through to the small hours of the morning, conversing and sharing the quiet of the night in turns as though they were old friends. The truth was that they were no longer strangers, having been woven instead by an invisible thread of commonality that spoke at once of old memories and new.
When the sun finally broke the horizon and gilted the river in gold, Leander felt almost sheepish while they bid one another goodnight. “Until next time?” Leander ventured, though it only took seconds for him to reform the question into something else – something to better express his certainty that this would not be their last meeting. “I’ll see you, Eilidh.”
And perhaps he left feeling a little lighter than before.
take a bullet to the heart just to keep you safe; like a dream in my arms but i’m wide awake
