"Hey, Tamaki, does this count as a date?" Megan asked, looking at the blond walking beside her. They'd spent the past half hour walking around in the park.
"A date? I suppose. Do you want it to be a date?"
"…Maybe," she smiled mischievously.
"What kind of answer is that?" he exclaimed.
"My kind!" she giggled.
Tamaki sighed and grabbed Megan's hand.
"Well, I'm taking it as a yes," he said. "So, if this is a date, then it's my job to make sure you have fun. What do you want to do?"
"I am having fun, Tamaki. I don't care what we do."
"That's not an answer."
"But it's true. I'm just happy to be with you."
He smiled.
"I feel the same way, Megan," he said. "But that doesn't tell me what you want to do."
She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Ok, fine. Hmm… Lets swing!"
"You want to… swing?"
"Yes!" she chirped.
"…You really are a cheap date, Meg," he teased, leading her toward the swings.
"Oh, shut up!" she laughed. "I'm feeling nostalgic, ok?"
"Nostalgic, hm? Ok…"
"I'm not a little girl anymore, Tamaki—I don't scare that easily now!" she warned, guessing what he was thinking.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he claimed.
"Uh-huh. Right."
She sat on the swing. Tamaki walked around behind her and started pushing. He pushed her higher and higher, until she was higher than the bar and barely staying in her seat. As she was going up again, he grabbed the chains on the swing, stopping her suddenly.
"I guess you really don't scare like you used to," he frowned, disappointed. When they were kids, she had been terrified to go higher than 6 feet off the ground, and he had taken great delight in using that against her.
"No, I lied; I was scared shitless," she breathed, leaning into him.
"Why didn't you say something?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her. "You know I would have stopped."
"Because I'm stubborn."
"I'll say," he teased, laughing.
"Shut up!" she pushed him away, laughed along with him.
"So, are you still feeling nostalgic?" he asked.
"Yes, why?"
"Last time we did this, we got ice cream."
"I never pass up ice cream," she reminded him.
"I know," he put an arm around her. They walked to an ice cream parlor down the road. "Mint chocolate chip?"
"Always," she smiled, happy that he still remembered.
As they walked down the sidewalk eating their ice cream, he couldn't help but look at her. She was so different, yet so much the same. Her hair was no longer worn in pigtails, and it was straightened, with the bangs cut diagonally and parted to the side, but it still smelled like strawberries, and he was sure it was just as soft as he remembered. Her eyes were lined and shadowed in a light layer of makeup, but they were still bright and beautifully blue and full of life. She was more mature, but still playful and cheerful and talkative. She still had the innocence of a child, but the knowledge and appearance of a woman. He scolded himself for appreciating her new appearance so much, but was powerless to top it.
"Tamaki, why are you staring at me?" she asked, having finished the ice cream that had previously held her attention and kept her oblivious.
He blushed and looked away; he'd been caught!
"…Tama?"
"Sorry. I couldn't help myself," he admitted.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You're beautiful."
"Oh…. Thanks…." Now she was the one blushing. It made her happy to hear him say that, yet something was eating at her, and she didn't know what.
"What's wrong, Megan?"
"Nothing," she lied. "I'm fine."
He stopped walking and turned her toward him. "Megan," he said, "I know something's bothering you. I know you."
"I know."
He was silent for a moment, studying her. She didn't meet his eye.
"…Megan…. Please…."
She sighed.
"I'm just a bit emotional, that's all," she said. "I missed you so much. Now that I'm with you again, I feel like my emotions are on overload."
"That's what you didn't want to tell me? Megan, that's not something to hide—I feel the same way right now."
"I know, I know. I was being silly," she smiled up at him sheepishly.
"You were," he agreed, "but it's ok. So, what do you want to do now?"
"Mm…. Lets go to your house."
"My house? Why?" he looked at her curiously.
"Because I want to."
"Well, if that's what you want…."
"It is," she smiled up at him.
"Is your room still the same one?" she asked as they walked through his front door. She hoped it was.
"Yes—Megan!"
She took off running up the stairs. He hurriedly closed and locked the door before rushing upstairs after her. When he reached his room, he found her sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He stopped in the doorway.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.
"I'm laying in your bed," she said, glancing at him before returning her gaze upward.
"I can see that. I meant, why are you in my bed?"
"…. This is where we spent my last night in Japan, when I came to visit you that summer…."
"Oh. That's right…."
"This whole night has been a replay of that one."
"I know," he walked over to the bed and lay next to her.
They stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment.
"…Do you…want it to continue to be like that night?" he asked.
She blushed and looked away. 'What if I do?"
He was quiet. She was starting to worry that she'd said the wrong thing, until she felt him stroke her face.
She turned her head to find him propped up on his elbow, looking down at her.
He gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face.
"As long as the morning isn't like that one," he whispered, "I would like the night to be."
She smiled softly, shyly. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as he slowly leaned down.
His lips captured hers in a soft kiss. She slid her arm around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. He ran his fingers through hers; just as soft as he remembered. They held the kiss for a minute before he pulled away.
She leaned up, pecked him on the lips, and smiled.
He returned her smile, kissed for forehead, and lay next to her, pulling her close.
Neither of them knew where to go from there, but neither cared at the moment; they'd work it out eventually. All that mattered at that moment was that they were together.
They cuddled close and drifted off to sleep.