Under The Stars

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"Did you make this?" She picked at the edge of the picnic basket while eating a little bit of the cake.

"The basket?"

"No, the uhh, the cake."

She looked at me nervously.

I smiled.

"Yeah. I've always really liked baking. It's like being able to share a little bit of your heart, but just with someone's stomach. I don't know how to put that into words that make more sense. Just- creating things, especially things meant to be destroyed- there's something so poetic about it. Baking does that for me. Brings me peace. Makes me feel like things will be okay."

"I never knew you liked to bake. It's a suiting hobby."

"How so?" I looked up at her. I studied her silhouette against the dark of the night sky. I could barely see her, but her presence was so strong and unmistakable. I laid back in the blanket and adjusted into a comfortable position but didn't take my eyes off of her.

"Your soul is so gentle and so strong. You have this balance I've never seen in somebody before. You fascinate me." She kept her gaze off into the sky, like she was afraid I'd seen right through her.

I believe I had.

The rest of the night went similarly, spent watching the stars and watching each other, acting like we didn't feel the stare of one another. We talked for hours about nothing in particular but also everything.

   It reminded me a lot of that night at her house when I had met her whole family. It was the last time I had gotten to talk to her this way, without the worry of what any of it meant. For us, it seemed the twinkles of the night sky took away our complications for a little while.

There are some moments that you know will stick with you for the rest of your life, no matter what. As we laid there under the stars, I turned my head to take her in for a minute. I noted every detail, every reflection of moonlight across her face, and closed my eyes.

I wanted to keep this moment for all of time and hold it close to my heart.

This is how I wanted to remember her and how I hoped she would remember me.

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