"If you could do anything in the world," he murmurs, his languid voice cutting through her sleepy haze, "what would it be?"
It takes a moment for her mind to register the question. This far into exam period, and with the weather this hot, thinking about anything seems too strenuous an effort to bother. The sun beats down on her skin, warming it through the thick sheen of sunscreen she covered herself with, as she forces herself to think. "How feasible does it have to be?"
"However much or little as you want."
Her voice is hesitant as she replies, "Part of me wants to say I'd make it so there's no blood prejudice or 'half-breed' discrimination anymore, but…"
"But?" The question is soft and gentle, and it coaxes the rest of her answer out of her.
"But I've had this dream, since I was a little girl, to visit the capital of every country in the world. Paris… Canberra… Hong Kong… Tel Aviv… It's not likely to happen, given our war and other wars and time limitations and money constraints, but I would love to just do that. Get a snippet of life in each country before returning to the places I really like."
"That sounds amazing. I would totally go with you if you wanted some company." He nudges her shoulder with his. "I'd be useful, too. I can speak conversational German, you know, and that might be helpful…"
Opening her eyes, she twists her head around until she can see him. He is still stretched out on the grass beside her, his eyes closed against the sun's harsh glare. A peaceful expression rests on his face. "I'd like that," she admits.
His hazel eyes blink open to stare right back at her. The sunlight illuminates the flecks of colour in his eyes, letting her see the little splashes of brown and green and orange in a way that she never has before. His gaze is as intense and concentrated as everything else about him, and she swiftly gets lost in it.
"What would you do?" she asks when, after several long moments, she finally finds her voice again.
"I would make a cure for lycanthropy," he replies so quietly that he mouths, rather than says, the final word. "There's nothing wrong with… you know, but he still beats himself up over it. I'd love to be able to take that concern away from him entirely."
She exhales a soft but self-conscious laugh. "Yours is so much better than mine."
He reaches his hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're the most selfless and generous person I know. It's alright to look after yourself first sometimes."
She doesn't know what to say to that – to any of that. It's like a double-edged sword; you're a wonderful person and it's okay to use your one wish selfishly, so you shouldn't feel bad about the fact that, yeah, that's what you said you'd do. Instead of grappling with his words, she catches his hand and threads her fingers through his, tracing his palm with her thumb. "If you're serious about wanting to travel with me," she says, "maybe we could go to Barcelona for a few days after we graduate. I've been ticking European capitals off the list with my family for the past few years, and we're old enough to go there alone now…"
His face lights up like the sun – except, to her, he shines brighter than that far-off ball of gas ever could. "I'd love that."
And I love you, she thinks, not quite ready to say the words aloud but unable to deny it to herself any longer.