The lake had never quite managed to freeze over this winter. Wire-thin pond skaters skittered across its surface, casting ripples where their feet and feelers touched the water. In the reedy water, I could just make out the ghostly shapes of fish as they enjoyed the shallows before diving back into the sapphire depths.
Sebastian and I stood by the side of the lake, in the spot that had been the setting for so many moments that had defined our relationship in more ways than I could fathom. He was taking a smoke break after completing his work, and I was just on my way home after mining for most of the day. I saw the tension in his grip on his cigarette and knew that though he was done his work for the year, he wasn't quite able to let himself relax without the aid of nicotine, much to his chagrin. It would be a slow process, I had assured him, but even still, every puff seemed to eat into him and erode his patience for himself.
"Last day of the year," he said, his breath visible against the darkening sky. Smoke spiralled out from his lips and he dropped the cigarette onto the frozen earth.
"Yup," I nodded, my gaze flickering to watch him stub it out and pocket the remains. Even as snow lay glittering on the ground around us, I could taste the scent of spring on the wind. There was a nip of freshness in the air, a longing for rebirth and new beginnings. "Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of being out here."
"I can't believe it's already been a year," he said, a wistful quality entering his tone. "It feels like it's been much longer."
Nodding, I said, "It feels like that for me, too. It's weird to think that this time last year I was still in Zuzu City." An unexpected sadness seemed to clamp down on my throat, and for a moment I lost my breath.
"But now you're here," he said, sweeping in quickly at my sudden silence. "And you fit in as well as anyone."
"Thank you," I said, swallowing with a heavy, wet sound that I'm sure he heard. I felt the moment his hand touched my back like it was electricity, and I let out a small yelp at the sudden change in emotions that flooded me.
"So," he began, holding back the beginnings of a snicker, "what did you get up to today?"
"The usual," I said, waving a hand as absentmindedly as I could. "You know, taking care of my animals in the morning and mining for the rest of the day."
"Such nonchalance," he teased, and his hand dropped as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I thought I might faint from the heat that flooded my body. "You'd never know it was the last day of winter."
"Oh, yeah, about that," I began, and peered at him. "Is there an event tonight that I just haven't heard of?"
A puzzled expression worked its way across his face, scrunching his brow and puckering his lips. "I've never heard of there being an event for the last day of the year."
"Oh," I tried not to look crestfallen, "I didn't know that you don't celebrate the year end out here in the valley."
Sebastian shrugged. "We try to only do two festivals per season. I think some people celebrate today with their friends and family, but that's done in their homes. There's nothing public with this one."
"Hmm," I murmured, "so that means that there's no rule saying we can't celebrate it ourselves."
Raising an inquisitive eyebrow at me, he said slowly, "No, there's definitely no such rule."
A fluttering began in my chest. "So," I drew out the word as I thought, "do you have any work that you need to do tomorrow?"
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Well," I took a deep breath and wondered for a moment why I was so nervous. "Would you like to stay up with me to see the start of the new year?"
There was no surprise in his answering gaze. "Of course," he nodded, looking out over the lake once more. Casting a sidelong glance at me, he said, "And if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then the answer is yes."
It was my turn to throw a questioning look his way as I tucked my hands in my sleeves. "How did you know I was going to ask about watching the fireworks over the city?"
Not missing a beat, a sly smirk quirked his lips. "I think I know you pretty well." As his gaze left me, he seemed to deflate a bit. "And sometimes you seem like a reflection of myself."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
His brow furrowed. "No, definitely not." He swallowed audibly and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just that… sometimes you're so much like me in terms of interests and behaviours, but in so many ways you're so much better." Pressing his lips into a line, he took an unsteady breath through his nose. "I really admire what you've done, restoring your grandpa's farm, raising all those animals. You're brave to move out here. You didn't have friends or family out here to support you."
"Sebastian," I breathed, just barely containing my sudden sadness, "you're so sweet to think that. But I'm not any better than you. No way, no how." I shook my head and caught the frown that twisted his features. "I admire you a ton, and I feel like I should have said so sooner." I gave him a pleading glance, and his features softened enough to urge me to continue, "I couldn't do freelancing like you, you know that? I actually tried it for a week while I was sorting out what to do about moving out here. It was awful. I was stressed out constantly, and I was so afraid of sending something bad to my client. It was a disaster." I shook my head slowly, wanting to relay enough of the experience to him, but not wanting to relive it in all its tearful, disappointing glory. "I didn't even tell my parents about it," I added.
Taking a deep breath, I faced him and tried to will my voice into steadiness. "And everything that you've gone through, everything you've put up with; you're a strong person, but I don't think you see it."
A heavier breath whistled through his nose this time, and I knew he itched for another cigarette though he said nothing.
"Sebastian," I continued and swallowed down the wave of emotion threatening to conquer me, "I love you. I think you know it, but I wanted to tell you again, and I'll tell you every day if that's what you need, because you need to know that you are an amazing person. If it weren't for you, I never would've made any friends here. Because of you, I got to know Sam and Abigail. Because of you and your mom, I feel like I have a support system out here. And that's because you took a chance on me. You opened your heart to me; you bared your soul and your guts and your fears and – dammit, Sebastian, don't you dare think I'm better than you."
Through my tears I could see how wide his eyes were, how his lips were parted. As he came out of his stunned state, he tentatively reached out, and soon I was ensconced in his warm embrace.
Through the still evening air, he murmured, "Yoba above, you really can get a point across."
In spite of myself, I snorted against his chest, eliciting a tighter squeeze from him.
"Thank you," he whispered and he tensed for just a moment before continuing, "this is exactly why you're so important to me."
Like our usual nighttime ritual, he walked me home. Though the walk was spent in relative silence, I felt inexplicably close to him, and there was a strange intimacy about walking down the wooded mountain path together.
All too soon we were at my front door, and a cold emptiness yawned between us as he stood steps away from me at the bottom of my front porch.
"I need to make sure my bike is ready to go," he said, and I nodded in response despite the hollowness that welled within me. "I'll come pick you up at eight. Does that work for you?" The remnants of sunlight cast an inhuman glow about him, and my heart ached to look. Moments like this made it hard to believe that we were dating and he wasn't just some mythical creature or figment of my imagination.
"Yes," I said, unable to stop myself from smiling. "I'll prepare some sashimi and we'll make a date of it."
He blushed as an endearingly goofy grin took over. "That sounds really nice."
"I'll see you later," I said, trying not to blush and feel shy, but failing miserably.
He paused, but rushed forward to give me a peck on the cheek before heading off into the gloaming.
The thrum of his engine was my cue to come outside, and all it took was a nod from him to tell me to hop on behind him. Sliding the familiar helmet over my head, he turned to look over his shoulder at me. I gave him a thumbs up gloved in black leather, and wrapped my arms around him as the engine roared back to life.
I wasn't surprised to see that the highway was practically free of any other traffic. Anyone who had plans for ringing in the new year were likely already at their desired destinations. Everyone else was at home, ready to celebrate with their loved ones. As we came to a stop and I let go of him, I realized that our plans for tonight were not too different, when it came down to it.
The clouds parted for a moment, and as he took off his helmet, moonlight highlighted his silhouette in a dreamy white for a glorious, magical second. The snow here was mostly melted, leaving patches of grass to poke through. Hand in hand, we trudged through the remaining snow to the spot he had brought me to just a few weeks ago. I understood now why he liked this place so much. In some ways, it wasn't so much that the city lay before us in its enticing and crippling grandeur; it was the timelessness of watching it from the outside. Even as the city grew taller and wider, and new spires spun up as the seasons passed, this place remained the same.
The moon was hidden away tonight – just a sliver before rebirth, caught behind a curtain of clouds somewhere vaguely above us. These were ideal conditions for fireworks, and I felt my excitement mount as Sebastian pulled a small, tightly folded tarp out from his pocket. As he spread it out over the snow, I saw that it was just large enough for the two of us to sit on.
"Perfect," I said, and settled myself upon it. I had brought my backpack and as I set it down carefully, I pulled on the zipper.
From within, I retrieved two plates of sashimi and two pairs of chopsticks.
"So," I began after managing to gulp down my first two bites, "how is it?"
He swallowed loudly. "I really love it. I don't know how you always make such good sashimi."
I laughed, being careful not to drop my food. "That'll have to be one thing I never tell you. I can't tell you, or it'll ruin it."
"Hmm," he hummed and took another bite. "I guess I can live with that."
Although he had picked me up just after eight o'clock, it had taken us over an hour to get here despite the light traffic. We finished our meal well before midnight, and there was a dip in the temperature that incited a new tiredness in me. I felt it in the slump of Sebastian's shoulders as well, and I realized just how many hours we had both been awake today. I must be getting old, I thought, as we settled into a calm, restful peace.
The night grew darker, though the stars pressed against the black. "Gosh, it's beautiful out here," I said.
He nodded, and neither of us felt compelled to converse further.
And truthfully, that was one of the best things about my relationship with Sebastian. Even as friends, I had never felt pressured to always be the one speaking. There was a comfortable silence that filled the space between us and it was a relief that contrasted starkly against the constant chatter that Sam liked to engage in. Somehow it was enough just to bask in each other's company.
Neither of us knew when midnight came upon us, but suddenly the sky lit up.
"It's starting," I squeaked, and pressed up against Sebastian.
In the clear skies over Zuzu City, a series of green sparks shot into the air and formed the rough shape of a 10. It was almost immediately superseded by a 9 in red, and I knew that the countdown was on. Clutching Sebastian's warm hand in mine, we counted down the rest of the way, our voices echoing until they were lost in the vastness of it all. "Three, two, one," we chanted, and I turned to look at him, wishing I could etch the moment into my mind's eye forever.
"Happy new year," he murmured and our lips met beneath the wave of fireworks that shot up from the city before us.
Yes, I thought, as we drew apart, our gazes linked and unwavering. It has been a good year. Thank you, grandpa. Thank you, Sebastian.
I rested my head on his shoulder as his arm encircled me. "Happy new year, Sebastian," I whispered and felt the calmest, stillest happiness I had known in a long time.