Before Tai, Sora always thought that love was something you had to look for in the fine print. You know, the stupid things you do to get someone's attention. Going to all of their soccer games. Switching to fifth period chemistry. New hair pins. It was like that with Matt, anyway. A slow drift into love; something built from the little things. But Tai never learned how to do anything little. He couldn't just say "I love you," he had to fling himself in the path of an oncoming...whatever. He certainly had the "stupid things" part down pat.
...maybe that wasn't fair.
With Tai, there was no fine print. The young man sitting across the low-burning fire, bent in quiet conversation over Izzy's laptop, was still that same big haired boy who felt for each one of them - without anyone ever telling him to - a pure, unwavering responsibility. She watched his eyes move from the computer screen, to the dark gaps between the trees, to Matt, dozing with his swollen ankle propped on Mimi's backpack and she finally understood that his reckless disregard for his own safety wasn't a stunt, and wasn't about attention...it was what it was. No games. Nothing done halfway. Just a singular, incomparable love.
She was suddenly overcome with the things she wanted to tell him. Everything he'd missed, everything she'd filed away under "I have to tell Tai-" Little things. She stared until he felt it and she held his gaze through the hot glow of the fire until something fierce bled out of his expression leaving only...softness.
And then he smiled - a little quirk of the lips - and staggeringly, overwhelmingly, Sora wanted to do something stupid.