(A/N): Edited as of September 11, 2015.

Kiss Farewell

Yuna entered her apartment complex, parking into her designated spot. Stepping out of her car, she closed the door behind her and watched Baralai do the same as he pulled into the guest side. Once he crossed the street to reach her side, she popped open the trunk, and together they hauled out the heavy box of assignments she took home with her to grade for Thanksgiving break, rushing to place it down on the concrete.

"Thank you so much! You're the best." She beamed.

He shut the trunk and folded his arms on top of it, heaving a huge sigh. "Don't thank me, yet. We still have to climb at least five flight of stairs." Taking a moment to check out the building, his eyes lit up with wonder. "I know I'm going to regret saying this, but― This place looks great. I especially like your spiraling staircase."

"Wait till you see how it looks on the inside." Yuna grinned, and then moved to grab the box again. "So, are you ready to carry this thing?"

Daunted by the thought, Baralai followed her cue anyway and grabbed the opposite side. "Ready as I'll ever be..."

Before Yuna could take the lead, he started walking backwards, almost throwing her off balance.

She stopped in her tracks, forcing him to stop also and readjust his grip.

They gave each other questioning looks.

"What are you doing?"

"...I don't know. Leading?"

"Why? I know the way," she says, not unkind.

"I know, but it's easy to trip if you can't see where you're going. Plus, it's a long walk. I don't want you to overstrain yourself. And you don't have to worry about me, I trust you to guide me." He smiled, winning the argument right then and there with his dazzling sense of chivalry.

"...thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Anything for you, my lady."

Cheeks already pinched pink from the cold, Yuna felt them flush hotter. Ever since their return back from lunch two weeks ago, Baralai took to calling her that in private whenever she least expected it. Against her better judgment, she grew to love hearing it; the illusion that she in some part belonged to him. She missed how it felt to be with someone.

After several, long minutes of scaling the stairs one careful step at a time, pausing several times to catch their breaths and warm their stiff, sore hands, they eventually made it to her door. They placed the box down so Yuna could unlock the door, and once inside proceeded to drop it off in the middle of the living room. She locked the door shut and wandered into the kitchen, eager for something to drink.

"Would you like something to drink? Juice? Water? Hot chocolate?" She called out to him, opening the fridge and snatching a bottle of water.

"Hot chocolate sounds good. Thank you." He stood by the counter, which separated the dining room and entertainment center from the kitchen, admiring the fireplace in the corner, the plush, beige couch next to the fanciful glass table, and the Van Gogh paintings hung on the white walls. "This will sound rude, so I apologize in advance, but... You know what, I'll just say it. You can afford this on your current salary?"

"It's only a one-bedroom apartment," she said, amused by his survey of her apartment while waiting for the milk to microwave. "And yes. College professors are paid more than school teachers, after all. Plus, I work full-time. I was rooming with my two cousins up until last year, and when time came to renew the lease, I decided I wanted to move out closer to work. It does help that I also earn money on the side with my books."

The same books that she would assign for her classes, including Poetry and Playwriting. She wrote two collection of short stories, one for each level of Creative Writing, a compilation of poems, and a full-length original play. Aside from those four core classes, she also taught HMNT - Shakespeare's Kings and DRMA - Screenplay alongside Professor Seymour Guado for the fun of it. It embarrassed her to admit that she became one of those people whose work matured into their passion. Worse, she might have directed Baralai down the same path, because in just three years he aced all her classes with straight As. Now halfway through his fourth and final year, he somehow burrowed his way into her heart, standing before her inside the walls of her home.

"I see," he said, bringing Yuna out of her thoughts. "Does it ever get lonely sometimes, living by yourself?"

"Well, the other reason why I moved out was because I, um... I was kind of hoping to be with someone by now." She took out his cup of hot milk, busying herself with stirring the mixture. "You know, get married, have kids, that kind of thing..." Her hand slowed to a stop, depressed by the thought, and then she forced the smile on her face before turning around to hand him the cup. "I'm pitiful, aren't I?"

"I don't believe you're pitiful at all," he said, stretching the cuffs of his sweater to cover his hands, so he could reach over the counter and retrieve it without the risk of burning himself. "It just goes to show you're waiting for the right person. After all, you don't want to settle for just anybody, right?"

His empathic remark dissolved her doubt, and she felt warmth blossom in her chest. "...yeah. That's exactly right."

While waiting for the drink to cool, Baralai lowered it onto the counter and smiled. "I like you the way you are. You don't have to conform to anybody or lower your standards in order to acquire a fraction of happiness. Someday, I'm sure you'll find him," Baralai said, gazing upon the ripples before raising the cup, blowing air into the scalding surface for a sip. "The man who will make you the happiest woman in the world."

She stared, touched by the truth of his earnest, wise words. 'I may have already found him.'

"But feel free to take my words with a grain of salt." The embarrassment finally caught up to him, and he blushed, stroking the rim of his cup. "I'm sorry, that probably came off sounding incredibly naive-."

"No, no. It didn't. I really... needed to hear that." Yuna turned away, tickled by the hair strand that came loose from her messy bun, and tucked it behind her ear. Realizing how bedraggled and worn she must look from the day, she touched a palm to her face, self-conscious. "W-Will you excuse me? I, um, n-need to use the bathroom..."

"Oh, of course."

Closing the bedroom door shut, she trudged into the hallway of her bathroom, alone at last to recollect her thoughts. Yuna rinsed her face at the sink, cooling her hot cheeks, and then straightened herself to stare at her disheveled reflection. On the verge of thirty, she could already point out the first sign of wrinkles. She leaned forward, tracing the hints of tireless, long nights beneath her soft eyes. She rubbed her forehead, massaging the slight stress marks that already began to line her skin.

No steady relationship, no children or ring. She sighed.

'I feel so old... Why would he want me? He's young and handsome, and about to start his life. I'm here and already established, and... still growing old. I'm not getting any younger. No matter what, I'll always be eight years ahead of him.'

Discouraged by that train of thought, she decided she must put a stop to this before anyone ended up hurt or heartbroken. "Nothing will come out of this relationship," she told herself, "because nothing will happen, and that's the way it's going to be." She cringed at how meek that sounded, and huffed in frustration. "Come on, me. You can do this, right? Right... Okay, let's go. Tell him he has to leave. Tell him... Oh, forget it." The more she talked to herself, the more foolish she felt, and she decided to give up for now, trudging out of her bedroom.

Yuna found him in the kitchen where he stood in front of the sink, washing his cup.

Wiping his hands dry, Baralai looked up to smile at her. "Oh, you're finally out. I was thinking about heading out now. Thank you for the hot chocolate, it warmed me right up. I especially loved the little marshmallows and cinnamon you put in it."

"You're welcome. I'm glad to hear you liked it." For a moment, she feared she would have to force the cheer in her voice in order to keep him from suspecting anything, but his words always managed to lift her spirits despite her inner turmoil. She walked to open the door for him. "Thanks again for helping me carry that. You're a lifesaver."

"Of course." Baralai stopped before the doorway, facing her. "But before I leave, I wanted to ask you. What are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Well, usually I'd drive up to see my parents, but..." Taking a moment to glance at the plastic, sealed box in contempt, she sighed. "With all that homework, I don't think I can finish them all by Monday. I was actually thinking of staying home Thursday."

"Well, that's sad," he said, sympathetic.

Annoyed by his comment, she fought not to frown. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh. No reason, really. I was just curious..." Baralai averted his eyes, appearing to debate about something. His fingers fidgeted on the sleeve of his coat, exposing his white lie for the illusion of his calm, and then he raised his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat. "If you plan on being alone Thanksgiving night... Would it be alright if I came over? To keep you company? We don't have to do anything. Maybe grade papers, or something. Anything that you want to do."

For all his effort and bravery, she couldn't bring herself to disappoint him. Or fight back her traitorous, beating heart. "I. Um, that is. Yes. I-I would like that."

His eyes brightened with pleasant surprise. "Really?"

She nodded, managing a meek smile.

"Okay, um..." Baralai exhaled, struggling to regain his composure, and swept his hand through his hair to rake it back. "W-When would you like me to come over?"

"Dinner! H-How about dinner?" she said, in a panic, her excitement increasing no thanks to his own. "You can come in the afternoon, and we could, you know, cook together...? Unless you don't want to cook! I can do all the cooking."

"No, I want to help," he said, vehement, "Cooking together sounds fun. W-What, ahem... What would you like to make?"

"A whole turkey would be too much for two people, so... I-I'll think of something once I'm in the store. In the meantime, mashed potatoes! You can't have Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes. And mushroom gravy. Maybe cranberry sauce for turkey slices, perhaps...? Oh, and deviled eggs! You enjoy deviled eggs, right? How thoughtless of me! I didn't ask what you'd like to eat."

"Th-That's okay. I'm fine with all those things." He blushed, almost beside himself with joy. "For salad, though, um... Can we make strawberry salad instead of Caesar? I'm not a huge fan of ranch or vinegar. Or all those vegetables. Or croutons. I hate croutons. You know what, can I be in charge of salad?"

Yuna giggled. "You don't like anything sour or salty, do you?"

"No, I'm afraid not..." Baralai chuckled.

"And what about dessert?"

His eyes twinkled. "Pumpkin pie! Or cheesecake. I'm happy with either, honestly."

She propped her elbow on the palm of her hand with a rueful smile, holding her cheek. "What am I going to do with you? You're so lovable, it's almost criminal." He laughed, shameless, until her hand on his cheek silenced him. Yuna stood rooted in place, taking in the full sight of him. 'He's so tall...' she thought, her hand falling to his breast.

Three and half years, she watched this sweet child grow into a young man, and lately it became harder to see him as the child he used to be when he dressed so fine in his designer coats and clean-cut clothes. SPCH-303 and DRMA-018 did wonders on his timidity, motivating him to carry himself with lighter feet and more confident shoulders. His attitude grew, as did his humor and energy for things, leading to the end of her first impression of him. Whenever she dared to stop and think about him, it overwhelmed her how much he had matured, further festering the desire she fought to deny throughout the passing seasons.

She couldn't play oblivious to his adoring looks forever, nor his constant, heart-warming acts of devotion. Men were always men, obnoxious and self-indulgent, but not Baralai. He was a gentleman, the most amazing and thoughtful man she would ever come meet in this lifetime. Motivated by irresistible temptation, she clasped onto the corners of his jacket collar and pulled him down for a kiss. Baralai froze for a split-second, startled at first, before pulling away, further bewildering her with his awkward silence. Yuna wondered why he chose to reject her after all this time when he had been broadcasting his feelings - until it occurred to her: 'He's just as scared as I am.'

And what had she ever done to encourage his feelings? Nothing. To him, this moment probably felt too good to be true.

Angry at herself, she yanked him down with more force, pressing her lips to his. She felt him return the fervor after the slight, hesitant part of his lips, felt him slip both his hands over the small of her back to clutch her close, and she stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. Coaxing him open with the soft caress of her tongue, she moaned into his mouth. He tasted like warm chocolate, so sweet and addictive, she wanted more. He kissed her nice and slow, before leading her into a series of wonderful, small kisses that ended in bittersweet parting. She fell back onto her heels, arching into him as she tried to catch her breath, touching foreheads and nuzzling noses.

She pushed him back against the door, wanting to feel him more beneath the many annoying layers of his clothes. Forgetting about the fact she had opened it earlier, she caused them to tumble backwards into the cold and her head landed on top of his chest, winding him for a second. She gasped, mortified, burying her face into his sweater to hide her shame, until she felt him wrap his arms tight around her back, his body quaking with ill-restrained laughter.

They lied there in the middle of the open hallway, giggling like children.