Invisible String Of Love

Aligned Under The Stars

"What if everything actually falls into place?" Kaira wondered aloud, her voice barely louder than the hum of the tires. She stared out the window of the moving car, where the sun—now overtaken by the rising moon—still fought to cast its fading light across the world.

"If things go the way they're supposed to," Clementine replied, her hands steady on the wheel, "we’ll come out stronger. Not because we were never hurt, but because we had the courage to heal." Her words held both tenderness and steel, like she believed it—not just for herself, but for both of them.

Her voice lingered in the air, echoing with the weight of shared battles and the quiet promise of peace. It didn’t erase the past, but it offered a future not bound by it.

"That’s... beautiful," Kai whispered, her gaze still fixed outside. "Hopeful. I like that."

"Hope’s what gets us through," Clemmy stole a glance at her. "Without it, life’s just grayscale. Hope’s the color. The reason."

Their eyes met—and then it happened: that kind of laugh that escaped before you can stop it.

"God, listen to me," Clemmy burst out, grinning. "Soundin' like some off-brand Aristotle. And all we're doing is driving to KFC."

Kai laughed too, the kind of laugh that shook off the heavy and welcomed the light. They both needed this—needed each other—even if it was just for cheap chicken and fleeting comfort.

Ten minutes later, they rolled into the KFC drive-thru. Second in line. Clemmy turned to Kai, already knowing what she wanted.

"Famous Bowl, Nashville hot chicken, and a Fanta for me. What about you?"

Kai bit her lip, scanning the menu. "Uhh, give me a sec..." She tapped her chin like it was a life-or-death decision. Sandwich or pot pie? Cookies or mac and cheese?

"Chicken sandwich and mac with lemonade."

Clemmy nodded and leaned out of the window as the car drove off.

"Thanks for choosing KFC. What can I get for you?" The cashier greeted them with a slight Scottish accent.

Clemmy relayed the order, making sure it was clear, and then confirmed the total: "£34.13." They paid separately—Clemmy with £13.14, Kai with £20.99—and pulled into the designated parking space to wait.

"It’s already six," Kai said, glancing at the sky turning lavender. "Good thing I’m off tomorrow. What about you?"

"Hmm? Oh—yeah."

"Don’t you have an early shift?"

"Nah, I’m on nights tomorrow." Clemmy smiled at how Kai fussed. No one had ever really fussed over her before. Not friends. Not family. Not anyone.

"Oh… that’s great." Kai chuckled, her voice almost shy. "We’ll have more time, then." She looked away, humming along with the song on the radio—“Missin Something” by Zach Templar.

She had no idea how her casual words made Clemmy’s heart jump.

"Y-yeah," Clemmy stammered, cheeks burning again—just like on the hill, earlier. It was ridiculous, really. But real.

Thankfully, before the silence turned unbearable, an employee knocked on the window and handed them their food.

"Thanks," Clemmy said, grateful—for the chicken, for the moment, for her.

"Let's eat in the trunk. There's a little table in there," Clemmy said, trying to sound casual—but her voice wavered just enough to give her away.

Kai followed her out of the car, watching as she popped open the trunk, and unfolded a small table at the center like she’d done it a hundred times. Clemmy settled on the left side; Kai took the right. Together, they began arranging the takeout boxes, the occasional clink of plastic against metal filling the ambient—until their hands brushed as they both reached for the same item.