Enough | ✔️

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"Favourite food?" I ask, looking across at my angel as she takes a sip of her wine and makes a face at the taste.

"Not this, for sure," she mumbles, placing it down, "But I do have a fondness for watermelon."

I smile, "Note taken."

Having nearly used up our entire day at the spa, the four of us now sit in a sauna to enjoy our last hour. From 'couples' massages to steam rooms, we have been thoroughly rubbed, prodded, and spoilt to relaxation, and I can tell Quorra is much more comfortable with me. Lucas and Hannah sidle next to each other on the other side of the bench, wrapped in towels and whispering lowly. I don't want to know what moves my best friend is trying and failing to put on Hannah.

Did I mention that Quorra is in a towel too? Just knowing that she is completely bare underneath the fluffy material hugging her body tightly has me all kinds of uncomfortable. I am trying my best not to stare at someone who isn't mine anymore, but it's difficult to find a place to look that doesn't distract me. Even her face leaves me breathless, flushed with colour from the high heat of the sauna and as soft as I remember. It's difficult to be around her and not want to just stop, stare, and take her in. I've been deprived of her beauty too long.

I find it's best to just not meet her eyes at all, even though I know it will start to bug her soon.

Yet, I just know that she feels like me too.

I can see it in her eyes when her gaze accidentally falls to my stomach, or lingers a second too long on my arms, when her readable eyes sweep up to mine, or her lips curl up in a tentative smile. Working out was a way for me to vent my frustrations in the years while we were apart. Paired with my incredibly-stressful job, it worked well, and now instead of the muted outlines I used to have, I have a solid stomach. I'm no body-builder, but I don't think Quorra would like that anyway. The fact relieves me.

Her favourite place to look is my hair. Seventy percent of the time, when my eyes search for hers, they're looking up at my hair, as if she wants to comb it out of my face, but doesn't dare. Does she think it's too long?

I run a hand through my hair self-consciously.

"What's one thing about you that you wish people knew? That people never ask but you'd like them to know?" I ask, trying to retain every little piece of information she gives me.

She runs a hand through her hair, shifting her part. I love when she does that. It opens up another part of her face for me to admire and memorise. It makes her look like a new person, yet still my same, dorky Quorra. My Quorra. I'm sure it's fine to call her that in my head, as long as I don't say it. Right?

I tune back into real, boiling-hot life to hear her answer.

"About me? I'm a pretty boring person, Slater," she laughs softly.

Over the past few hours, she's grown used to saying my name. I can tell it doesn't hurt her anymore, like it used to. It's no longer a reminder of the tears I caused her, but of the happy memories we shared and are sharing. She's also been letting me say her name, but 'sweetheart' has grown on me too much now - rather, her little smile every time I say it has me prisoner.

"You're the most interesting person I know, sweetheart," I say, keeping my gaze straight ahead to avoid it falling where it shouldn't, "Surely there's something. Any secrets to tell me?"

Silently, she wonders for a while.

"I kissed a girl once."

That has the other three of us in the room in a trance-like state. Hannah and Lucas cut their conversation short. My head snaps to her, unable to stop itself.