Chapter 6

Yang watches Blake carefully as she takes in the view around them, her eyes wide.

They had arrived at the top of a hill, a glittering lake stretched out before them, the soft white sand of a beach illuminated by the moon, barely visible on the edge of the horizon. Blake's hand fluttered to her chest.

"I-it's beautiful," she whispered. Yang smiled shyly.

"Let's go."

She squeezes Blake's hand, tugging her toward a path that wound down the hill. Soon, grass turned to sand, and the chill that was in the air disappeared, replaced with a comfortable warmth. The only sound around them was the calming rush of waves on the shoreline.

"Yang," Blake breathed, her eyes sparkling. "This is beautiful."

"I mean, really it's nothing. It's been here all along." Blake laughed. "But I guess you're right. It is quite beautiful. Especially with you standing next to it."

"I honestly don't even know what to say," Blake sighed, leaning into Yang, who towered over her.

Yang dropped her hand from Blake's, and stepped out of her shoes. Reaching down to grab them, she grins at Blake before stepping into the sand. Blake watches as Yang spins around, her back to the water as she waves Blake over. Blake lets out a laugh, her hand covering her mouth. Yang kicks the sand as she starts running, giving Blake no choice but to follow, giggling. Yang rips her arms out of her jacket, throwing it behind her as she sprints toward the water, her laughter filling the air.

"What are you doing?" Blake exclaims, laughing as she shrugs out of her coat, her arms bare to the air. Yang reaches back for her, and Blake steps into her arms, eyes glittering in the moonlight. She kicks off her shoes, wiggling her bare toes in the sand.

"I don't think I've ever been here at night," Blake whispers, her breath tickling Yang's neck. "Especially with a beautiful girl."

"Good to hear, I think," Yang replies quietly. She turns toward the water, and, leaving their jackets and shoes in a heap in the sand, move toward it. Yang crouches in the sand near the edge of the waves, where the sand is wet, and rocks have gathered. She sits, and Blake joins her, both of them leaning into each other.

"When I was younger, my dad would take me here," she says suddenly. "Ruby - my sister - would build sand castles by the water," Yang let out a laugh. "We had all these plastic pails she always insisted on bringing. Every one of them. And there was, like, twelve."

"What happened?" Blake asked, tracing circles in the palm of Yang's hand. Yang sighed.

"I don't know. We got older, he left. We stopped coming here. Just like we stopped going for ice cream every Sunday, or eating spaghetti when one of us had a hard day at school." Blake said nothing, wiggling her toes in the sand. Yang laughed suddenly.

"God, I don't know what it is about you that makes me this way," she giggles.

"What way?" Blake asks, pulling back to look at her. She raises a questioning eyebrow at the blonde.

"Open. Vulnerable. Trusting. Take your pick." Blake smiles roguishly.

"I pick you," she whispers.

Yang stares at her, eyes wide. Feelings of confusion and tenderness swell in her chest.

She glances at her hands entwined with Blake's, suddenly feeling the spark of electricity where their knees touched each other. She was all too aware of where they touched, oblivious to everything else around them. A laugh bubbles up into Yang's throat, and she turns away.

"What am I, like a Pokemon or something?" She says, giggling. Blake stares at her, taken aback by her reaction, before chuckling softly.

"I should've known," she mutters, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Yang sighs, grinning, and bumps her shoulder into Blake's.

"So," she says, staring at the water. "What brings you into the shop anyway? I mean, you're there practically always." Blake smiles slyly.

"Do you want the charming story or the real one?" Yang says nothing, but raises an eyebrow.

"Well, you see," Blake begins, tossing her hair over a shoulder. "There's this beautiful girl that works there-"

"Okay, okay. The real story, then," Yang interrupts, chuckling. Blake's smile fades.

"My girlfriend introduced me to the place." Yang freezes. She slowly slips her hand out of Blake's, folding her fingers in her lap. Blake looks at her dejectedly, but continues.

"Her dad owns the place, apparently. As one of the higher-ups, so we got free . . . well, I got a free milk steamer. She liked lattes." A small smile plays on Blake's lips as she remembers a memory all too sweet. Yang watches her carefully.

"Liked?" Yang finally asks quietly. "As in, past tense?" Blake nods, staring at her hands.

"We broke up a little over a month ago. I haven't heard from her since, and she hasn't wanted to see me since. I just kept coming." She pauses. "I mean, you guys do have the best milk in town."

Yang lets out a laugh, happy that the beautiful girl beside her was so open, so willing to trust her.

"Well, I'm making them, so . . ." she trails off, smiling at Blake. Yang buries her toes in the sand, watching the particles fall.

"Hey," Blake says, nudging her. "Let's go somewhere."

"Blake . . ." Yang smiles wanly. "I'd love to, but I have to get home. Ruby will be waiting for me . . ." Blake nods.

"I get it. I'll take you home."