open

ˈəʊp(ə)n/

adjective

not concealing one's thoughts or feelings; frank and communicative.

"Told you I could have fun." Caleb grimaces before setting his hot chocolate down by the fireplace. He wonders if everything at this ski resort will be as unappetising, and is thankful that at least the cocoa is warm.

"Welcome to Earth," Cornelia says with a wink, taking a sip from her own mug.

A thought occurs to him. "What do you think you'd be doing if you were on Meridian?"

"Like, if I were born there?" Caleb nods. "Hmm...do you have personal shoppers on the metaworld? Or stylists! I could totally give that Lord Cedric some new threads."

"I'm serious!" he insists, but her expression is earnest. "Okay...so you wouldn't join the rebellion."

"Of course I would, silly! I could be a stylist to giant lizards on the side. Why do you ask?" Caleb shrugs. Her gaze is suddenly penetrating, and he sees his reflection in her eyes. "You feel guilty that you're having fun here, instead of being with the rebels."

Caleb wonders when he became so transparent. "How can you tell?"

Her expression changes when she casts her eyes away. Cornelia's walls are up again, but she is not quick enough; he has already seen the storm of sincerity in her ocean eyes, felt the tug of her lips as they curve into a smile, known what her understanding feels like long enough to wonder if love is different on planet Earth.