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New Morning
The last bit of ember is just dying out when Pure wakes. She looks around, her head pounding, and slowly rises from her sleeping bag. The late June air is sticky against her freshly tanned skin as she emerges from the tent, careful not to wake Gold. The boy's tent sits directly across from hers, and to the left, her parents'. She doubts anyone will wake up and catch her, but she is still nervous as she slips into her flip flops and sneaks away from the little campsite they've set up for the night.
The path to her family's lake dock is lit up with bright white, fluorescent lanterns that attract mosquitoes and spiders and just about any other bug you could think of. She normally hates them; they get in the way if you're racing you're sister and cousins and friends down to the water. But now, she uses them, because the night is pitch black except for the dainty little crescent moon hanging low in the sky. She eases herself onto the Pontoon and crosses over to the drivers seat, rummaging through the drawers beneath the steering wheel and confusing dials until she finds the bag of candles and the lighter she'd stashed there yesterday afternoon.
She hurries back to the shore and gathers several giant oak tree leaves in her arms, letting the fragrance chase her headache away and soothe her nerves. To anyone else, the tiny cove her house sits upon would seem eery at night, but she thinks it's beautiful. She loves the lake—she's been raised on it. She enjoys the way it looks out her bedroom window, no matter what time of year. She enjoys the way it feels on her skin after several hours of time under the blazing summer sun. She enjoys its huge size, because to her it's the only constant thing in her life that holds everything for her.
She doesn't realize it, but Warrior is watching her. He was awake when he heard her moving around, and followed her down to the dock out of curiosity. He sits on the dock steps, not bothering to hide himself, and watches her untie the old canoe he knows she loves so much. He wonders what she retrieved from the Pontoon, and stands to approach her without raising alarm.
"Pure?" he whispers, and she jumps a little at his voice. Pure turns to him.
"Warrior? You scared me," she laughs a little.
"What are you doing?" Warrior asks, curious now.
"I'm taking these out to the middle of the cove, and freeing them. I've been wanting to ever since school got out," she confesses, holding up the bag of candles.
Warrior nods, feeling heavy and clumsy as he watches her toss a life jacket into the belly of the canoe and untie the rotting rope. As she's stepping inside the little boat, she turns to him, a smirk playing out on her lips.
"Do you want to come?" she asks. Does he? Warrior isn't quite sure. Everyone expects him to be with Pure; they've known each other for so long and she makes him happy. He does know she makes him happy, extremely happy, in fact. But does that mean they should be together in that way?
He looks down at her just as the moon rolls out of the clouds. Her long blonde, wavy hair frames her heart shaped face evenly, her side swept bangs stopping a little above her blue-gray eyes that hold a sort of gentleness he never seems to get over. She grins at him, and Warrior decides right then that maybe it does mean they should be together.
"Sure," he tells her, and they climb into the canoe.
She takes two oars off of the dock and pushes off into the water that sits perfectly still all around them. The crickets scream from all directions, but the noise is soothing rather than annoying. Pure can see lightning bugs blinking on and off through the trees as they push out of the cove and into the open lake surrounded by docks. She is so distracted by the surreal beauty around her that she nearly forgets Warrior is sitting behind her.
She puts the oar down and turns around in her little bench to face him. He's already staring at her, trying to soak in the moonlight illuminating her gentle face. There's so much to watch; her eyelashes, the freckle resting on her cheekbone, her eyebrows, her nose, her lips. Warrior settles for her lips, the way they push together in concentration as she unzips the plastic bag holding the candles and takes the first one out. She sets the large oak leaf on the surface of the water and lights the candle, careful to pull the wick all the way up. Warrior watches in awe at the way her eyes light up with the fire as she places the candle onto the leaf and gently pushes it away from the boat.
Pure turns to him, excited now.
"Help me?" she asks, and he nods quickly, eager to see her smile again. Together, they light candle after candle, placing each one on an oak leaf and sending it off to who-knows-where. They say nothing, just watch as the glows shimmer and flicker out into the water and light up a little path of candles, all going in a different direction. Warrior continues to steal glances in Pure's direction, content when he catches her smiling her smile or running her gentle fingers through the smooth water. When the two dozen candles in the bag are all emptied into the lake, Pure turns to Warrior and smiles.
"Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" she says happily, her eyes still shining despite the decreasing fire light.
"No," he says, because he has now decided that she is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. She captivates him, every inch of him. She sets him in a trance he's never been in, calming him down and causing him to do things he'd never normally do, just to get her attention. She rolls her eyes and gives him a little smile, maneuvering her body and lowering herself onto her back. Pure's head falls near Warrior's hip, her hair spilling out around her and her eyelashes fluttering closed. She takes a deep breathe, letting the smell of summer and the smell of Warrior drift into her nostrils, soothing her. Silently, Warrior lies down next to her, blinking up at the starry sky.
"There's Big Dipper," she says, laughing a little. Her little hand crosses Warrior's vision and she points to the only constellation he knows of. He's not looking at her, but he knows she's smiling. He can almost feel it, because her smile is the only smile he knows that radiates warmth and promise.
"That's the only constellation I know," she giggles, reading his mind.
She tilts her head to look at him, and he tilts his head to look at her.
He really is quite lovely, with his fluffy brown hair and big green eyes. She doesn't know what she should say, or do. She knows she likes him, how could anyone spend as much time as she had with him and not grow feelings for him? She knows he makes her smile more than anyone, but she doesn't know how she should tell him that. Before she can move, he leans forward and kisses her cheek. It takes them both by surprise, but it's like a shock of energy bursting through their veins and accelerating their heart rates. It's quick and leaves Warrior speechless and wondering why in the world he did it. Possibly because she is so pretty, and he couldn't resist. Pure just smiles at him, turning her head back to the sky and leaning the cheek he kissed into his shoulder.
She begins to talk.
She talks about everything, and he answers her. They talk about Gold and Dash. They talk about school, and the people there that they like and hate. They talk about funny videos and Christmas time and fuzzy socks. They talk about everything they remember about each other from elementary school. They talk about their sisters, how annoying and beautiful they are. They talk about the future, where they'll go. Warrior wants to be somewhere teaching people sports, and Pure wants to be traveling, teaching people about culture and love and forgiveness.
But the both of them want to be together.
At some point during the conversation, their hands find each other, and tangle together. He holds onto her, and she holds onto him, because they remind each other of some the best, happiest moments in their lives. They remind each other of the moments they can't quite touch, can't quite recreate, can't quite plan perfectly. They remind each other of the moments that they wish to live in forever, the moments that have the power to lift a soul up and teach it to dance, teach it to really live again.
As the conversation that seems to last forever comes to a close, they slip into a comfortable silence and watch the sky above them. Pure marvels in the vastness of it, marvels at the way the stars glint and sparkle. Warrior marvels at the constellations and wonders just how so many were named and labeled and patterned out into the sky. They both realize at the same time that this moment is probably one of those moments they reminded each other of, and the two of them silently pick a star that will forever be a token of this moment, forever be a token of the special, everlasting bond they share.
The two sit up in sync, and turn their heads toward the candles floating farther and farther toward the open lake.
"What were those candles supposed to be for?" Warrior asks quietly, and Pure smiles, looking at him as he watches the fading flickers of light.
"They were wishes," she whispers, and he meets her eyes.
"Where are they going?"
"Everywhere, but they'll always end up here," she tells him, gesturing to her heart.
"What did you wish for?" he questions, still very curious. She pauses, hovering over the option to answer truthfully.
Where have lies gotten her anyway?
"This. Right now," she says slowly, and watches as Warrior's eyes crinkle into a smile.
"Me too, kinda," he admits, and watches her eyes twinkle with something the resembles the fire light he'd just witnessed.
"Your eyes," he breathes, without meaning to. She turns back to him, eyebrows raised.
"They remind me of the morning," he blurts, because he knows she's begging for him to say it. She smiles and the firelight grows.
"A new morning."
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