{Collin POV}
I jog up to Onyx on the beach, grabbing her hand as we walk. She jumps.
"Oh, hey Collin, you startled me." She says, smiling and laying a hand over her heart.
"I didn't see you at the house so I figured you were down here," I tell her, swinging our arms between us. "Going for a dip or some sun?"
"Maybe a bit of both, I haven't been swimming in awhile and I know Reia would kill me if she found out."
"I can't remember the last time I swam at the beach, a bunch of us guys usually just do some cliff diving and get out right away."
"Cliff diving? That sounds so fun." She says with a grin. "I haven't tried it before."
"Want me to take you? Right now?" I suggest, gesturing to the cliff that her house is on. Hers is the last house on the cliff before it's just open space.
"I'm game, let's do it!"
We climb the steps to her porch and hop over the fence on the edge of her yard.
"So when you're starting out, it's really easy to chicken out at the last second and let yourself fall straight down, but you have to just jump out as far as you can so you're as far from the shallow water's rocks down below." I explain as we walk. She nods seriously.
"Do you actually dive? Or just jump feet first?" She asks.
"I mean… I dive, but I wouldn't recommend diving in your first time. Get used to it first."
"Alright, why don't you go first and show me how it's done." She suggests. I nod, stripping my shirt off and tossing it aside. I realize what a great opportunity this is for showing off, and I take a couple steps back to get a dramatic running start.
When I reach the edge of the cliff, I propel myself off it and do some (admittedly, pretty sick) straight bodied flips before my hands slice into the water below. I grin at my successful jump, and turn around to go back up to the surface.
I look up to where I jumped, and saw her on the edge of the cliff, looking down at me nervously. I yell and beckon her to jump. I see her back up a few steps before jumping off as well, screaming the whole way down before her feet hit the water and she disappears. I laugh and swim towards her, seeing her head pop up about 10 feet away from me.
"How was it?" I ask her, grinning. Her eyes are wide, but her smile is wider.
"Oh my god, that was amazing!" She screams, treading water. We swim for shore and climb out of the water before she runs up to me and gives me a bear hug, still shaking.
"You liked it?" I ask her, smiling.
"I loved it! It was invigorating!" She says enthusiastically. I grin and release her, grabbing her hand again.
"Let's get you back up there to dry off." I suggest, leading us back to the stairs up. I'm so glad she enjoyed herself, although I didn't really doubt that she would, Onyx is equal parts athlete and daredevil, so she's down for almost anything – and you'd better believe she'll be good at it.
Onyx and I spend a lot of time in the water, she's honestly a fish. After we were dried off and wrapped in damp towels, we went inside and she pulled out a tub of ice cream with two spoons.
"We're going to eat this entire thing shamelessly." She says with a grin on her face. I can't help but return it as I dig in with my spoon.
About halfway through the carton, our talk quiets down and we focus our attention on the ice cream. When I glanced up at her discreetly, I had to pause for a second. My breath caught for a moment in my lungs as I struggled to breathe against the force of the imprint, like there's something stronger than just the imprint drawing me to her. I blinked and refocused on my spoon.
I've recently come to the realization that I am in love with Onyx. Now I just have to muster up the courage to tell her. And it has to be romantic. She says that's my specialty.
I roll my eyes at myself. I've been stressing over this for three days now, and she's starting to pick up on my increasing awkwardness.
When we finished the whole tub and moved to the couch, I grabbed the photo album sitting on the coffee table.
"Is this of your family?" I ask, looking at the picture on the cover. She nods, twisting her damp hair into a giant knot on top of her head. As I started flipping through the pictures, sometimes featuring Onyx swimming, playing volleyball or more recent ones of her with a very dark, very capable-looking lady,
"That's Reia?" I ask, pointing. She nods.
"I miss having her here."
"I hope I can meet her someday." I say quietly. Onyx doesn't respond, instead pointing to her face in the picture.
"How come nobody told me I looked like an idiot! Look at this! Hideous!" She exclaimed. I wrapped my arm around Onyx while examining the picture. It really wasn't that bad, but it wasn't good either. She'd used black eyeliner to make her eyes look very racoon-like, and it didn't suit her.
"Maybe because the people in your life that really love you focus on the beautiful parts, the natural beauty that you didn't cover up. Your eyes, eyelashes, hair... lips..." I drifted off, turning to look at her. My hand rose to caress her dark rosy cheek ever so lightly. "The best parts of you." My voice was barely above a whisper.
Onyx was looking down, and I admired her eyelashes, casting shadows down her face. An intensity I'd never felt rushed through my veins, searing and exciting me.
"Do you..." She looked up into my eyes. "Do you love me?"
I answered by leaning closer, staring directly into her eyes, "Yes." I pressed my lips to hers, softly. Gently. "Yes, I love you." I kissed her again, longer. Deeper.
I realized this moment could not get better if I had planned it.
XxxxX
{DAE'S POV}
"Why don't you come inside? You're probably hungry." I tell him.
"I'm always hungry," He grumbles while following me through the door.
"What do you want?" I ask, opening the refrigerator door and poking through the food in there. I swear I heard him say "you." I must be hearing things, though, because when I glance over my shoulder, he's squinting to see what I have.
"You guys have lemonade in a pink pitcher? That's so cute!" He chuckles, and I turn to glare at him. He holds his hands up defensively. "I am not being sarcastic, I'll have some of that, thanks." I pour us two glasses and sit next to him at the counter.
"What's that?" I point to the notebook and pencil in his hands.
"Um-just the notepad I doodle in."
"You draw?"
"A little. I'm not that good."
"Can I see?" He flips through the pages until he finds one he's satisfied with, folding the spiral-bound pages backwards to discourage me from exploring the other pages. I examine the detailed shading on the flowers and plants decorating the pages. "You're a semi-realist?" I inquire, recalling the styles mentioned in a drawing book I'd seen at some point.
"Yeah, working up to realist, I guess." He says thoughtfully.
"You're really good, you have a good eye."
"Thanks." He took a long gulp of his lemonade. He took his notebook out of my hands and put it back on the counter on the other side of his arms. "Want to make fun of sappy lines in a movie?" He suggests, grinning.
"That is totally something I would do." I agree. We put in a new chick flick that came out two months ago. My mom loved it, but Uncle Jay didn't really see the point. I thought it was hilarious.
Paul and I snorted in laughter at some of the gooey lines.
"I can't believe people get paid to say these lines." I managed to gasp out between laughs.
"I need to be an actor, I would be pretty fantastic. 'My life is empty. without you.'" He dropped down to one knee, taking my hand and bowing his head submissively to hold my knuckles to his lips for a brief moment, and I nearly lost myself in the sincerity of his gaze, even if his words were mocking. I played off my reaction as a dramatic swoon backwards into the couch. He flopped down beside me and both of us busted out in a fit of laughter at the ridiculous actors in the movie. When we'd caught our breath once more, he glanced at his phone.
"I didn't realize it was so late, I need to head home before your uncle comes to kick my ass to the curb." I laughed at the imagery.
"What, you think I'm joking? He's actually kicked me out before." He snorted.
"What were even you doing here?" I asked, genuinely curious, as there were never any pretty girls living in this house for him to lure into his bed.
"It was several years ago, I think I was like 9. His goddaughter was here, and I used to hang out with her." I frowned. I'm his only goddaughter.
"Did she have short brown hair and brownish skin?"
"Yeah, that's the one. She was a sarcastic pain in the butt, and I used to stay as long as he would let me." He smiled fondly at the memory.
"That was me you idiot, Jay only has one goddaughter!" I practically yelled, poking his chest.
"But her name was-"
"Rosie."
"Yeah."
"Which is a nickname for Rose, aka Daenarys Rose Winter. I went through an I-hate-my-name phase and went by my middle name when I was 7." He smacked his forehead.
"That explains so much!"
I squint at him, wondering what that explains, but I let it go as I hear the footsteps of my uncle on the stairs.
"I still have to kick you out, boy?" He chuckled as he entered the room.
"I'm leaving!" Paul said quickly, jumping up from the couch and waving at me. "I'll see you later, Rosie." I snorted.
"Don't call me that."
"Okay, bye Jay!" He high-tailed it out of there, my uncle closed the door behind him.
"So you guys figured it out, huh?" He laughed and sat down next to me.
"You were listening? Why didn't you tell me?" I'm having a hard time deciding what I'm most mad about.
"I'm not sure, I guess I didn't want to spoil your memories with how that... manchild that just left turned out." I laughed.
"I guess I don't blame you then." I got up, taking our glasses into the kitchen to wash them, and seeing Paul's notebook still sitting on the counter.
Is it wrong that I want to look at what he wasn't showing me?
I really shouldn't, he'd be mad if he found out.
But I've known him for years, and therefore have a right to look, right?
My curiosity won out over my conscience and I grabbed it off the counter and rolled over the back of the couch to examine it.
Page one: woah... okay, lots of skin, next page. I went through the pages one by one, examining his work and being careful not to smudge any of it. About three quarters of the way through, I turned the page and froze, very confused.
Several pairs of my eyes stared back at me from the paper.
After I got over the initial shock of it, I examined more closely the tiny details incorporated with pencil. The little ridge forming a scar above my eyelid on the right. Which, come to think of it, he gave me when we were kids, when he accidentally hit me in the face with a branch as we ran through the trees together. He caught the slightly mismatching patterns of my irises. The wide gap in lashes on the corner of my left eye. The little imperfections that I recognize. Each different angle showed new ones. Flipping to the next page, lips that were unmistakably mine in different positions. Scowling, smirking, pouting, parted in concentration. And several half-finished sketches trying to get my smile right, eventually scribbled out in defeat. I find similar pages dedicated to the view from behind me of my hairline descending to my neck, my feet, my face, my hands. It seems like I'm Paul's latest muse, and I realize I'm the last thing he's drawn, the sketches ending with only five or six pages left in the book. I am interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and I smile, getting up to answer it. I find him waiting with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking extremely distressed.
"What are you doing here, I thought you went home."
"Yeah, but – dude, I only live next door, it's not that far. I came back because I left my notebook here."
"Oh, this one?" I held it up, just beyond his reach as he tried to snatch it back.
"Yeah, that one... Um. Did you... You didn't..."
"Open it?"
"Yeah?"
"Of course I did." I smirk at his horrified expression.
"...and?"
"And what? Did I see your little shrine of me?"
"I don't have a shrine of you!"
"Really? Why else would you be so agitated over some drawings?" I opened the notebook up to the page dedicated to my hands, which had on the same ring that I always wear, holding it next to my own hand to show the similarity. I do the same with the sketch of my eyes, casting mine down seriously and laughing when he lunged to grab it back.
"So if it's not a shrine, what is it?"
"My study for anatomy. Boobs are next, mind if I use you as a model?" He smirked and I crossed my arms.
"You liar."
"Why would I make a shrine to you?" He asks, exasperated.
"Because you like me." I grinned, poking his ribs.
"I most certainly do not like you; I can barely even tolerate you."
"Okay, fine. But you do hate me marginally less than you hate everyone else." I conceded.
"The key word there being 'marginally.'"
"World, he admits it!" I shout, raising my arms above my head and looking up.
"Be quiet, the world is asleep like normal people!" He hisses, looking around and grabbing my arms to bring them back down. I laugh at him.
"Live a little, Lahote." He rolls his eyes.
"Goodnight, Dae." I giggle at the martyred expression on his face.
"You didn't have to ask me out." I pointed out.
"We went through this already." He hisses, turning to walk away.
"For the record," I call out, stopping him, "I hate boys. But not you. You're okay. Don't screw it up." He looks back curiously, nodding once before disappearing into the darkness.