In which Achlys sees the growth she desires has had fruits.
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June 22, 2022
IT WAS A GOLD afternoon of June.
Achlys felt like a time-traveller: years, months, weeks. Spring dissolved in her mouth yet again and she couldn't remember what it tasted like it anymore, enamoured in its place with the gifts of June, drinking the sun of another summer.
Sat in the balcony of Junhui's family home, overlooking the urban complexity of Shenzhen, Achlys was content, completely at peace with what her life had turned out to be. The soft banter of her boyfriend's family (she truly wasn't used to calling him her boyfriend and, despite the years, it still brought to her a warm feeling) poured in from the lounge, along with the rumbling of kids running across the hardwood floors and the laughs of two grandmothers gossiping. She couldn't help but think of the other members, Meili and even her father — she hoped that the same happiness she was experiencing through the unlikely completion of her dream of seeing an archetypical big, happy family would soon turn to grace them too.
The watering can tinkered against her acrylic nails as she sang some light lyrics, watching as the occasional water droplet stayed on top of the wide petals and refracted splintered sunlight.
Behind her, the doors to the balcony opened. She hummed in acknowledgment, not moving her eyes from the flower pots.
"Not a single glance?" Junhui whined (although the smile he wore was painfully obvious in his tone), "Just you wait until CARATs know of this disrespect."
Achlys felt her lips pull up in a small smile, placing the can in the floor and signalling to Junhui to sit beside her. As he did, she stretched her arm and gave his head a pat, ruffling his hair.
While he stared at her under the pouring sunlight of his hometown, with her hair down, messy from his younger cousins trying to braid it, and a look of complete peace over her features, he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted more — more than looks and brushes and endless flirting. He wanted to run his hand through her hair and feel the electricity surge through him and to pull her in to never let her go. More importantly, he wanted to be able to gush about her to his grandmother, plan a senseless dinner to share with her and his mother and have his father tease him for being completely whipped for her (despite the embarrassment).
Junhui let out one of his giggles, daydreaming about making the happiness of the day a constant of both of their lives. "Lys," he called out, "Let's get married."
Achlys dipped her head down, letting a laugh take over her chest. Jokingly offended, Junhui clashed shoulders with her and dropped his body backwards, into the wide cushions of the sofa they were sat in, cocooned by the leaves of a palm tree his aunt had been taking care of. He stretched like a cat, throwing his arms over his head and watching the shadows of his family from the lounge move in the floor of the terrace.
"For the record," he murmured after some seconds, when their laughing had stopped, "I wasn't lying."
Achlys, copying him and finding her head beside his, took a second to breath the moment in, inhaling deeply. She was blissfully aware of their legs touching, the caress of his fingers against her hand as he drew random shapes and the echoing of his voice in the cushions. Exhaling, she smiled widely as she talked, "I didn't say I thought so. You wouldn't joke about that."
The silence took over them momentarily.
"I'm not saying to do it tomorrow, in a month or in a year — not even in ten if you want it to be like that," Junhui clarified after some seconds. He turned his head, hair falling neatly against the sofa as he ran his eyes along Achlys' profile. "Just..." he murmured, "I'm just asking you to do it, some day, perhaps far away, but together. Always together."
Junhui didn't move his eyes away from her as she turned her head, facing him. Their noses brushed against the other's, awfully close, at a distance both would have jumped away had it been shared with anyone else — truly, what a privilege it was to matter so much to the other.
"Of course," she whispered back, "I already told you I'd you anything for you."
"So, Lī Achlys, will you give me, Wen Junhui, the honour of marrying me?"
She only nodded, a grin slowly forming.
"And will you, Wen Junhui, give me, Lī Achlys, the honour of marrying me?"
He kissed her then, tender, softly, on her forehead, hands gently holding her face. It felt like hot wax, and she wanted it to leave a mark — to be burned, stamped and have something in the end.
"How could I say no?" he giggles, "You haven't made me lose my mind that much yet."
They tasted the moon on each other, saw the stars in their eyes and felt the force of nature reflected off their skin — all wonders come together, how could they resist?
"This is not the official proposal, just so you know," Junhui giggled, "It needs to be perfect — it will be."
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