What’s Drippin, Dep La?

That's okay, Namaari thought, because everything seemed to work out in the end. Whether it was sharing fighting techniques or figuring out a new way to braid each other's hair, it worked out. They worked out.

And Namaari knows it's okay, especially when she sees Raya running at her every time they visit Heart. Especially when she can look at Raya and see a future—her future. And especially when that future is more than them being two passing comets in the galaxy. Namaari wanted so badly to collide, to crash into Raya and create a whole other planet together, away from the other worlds and into their own little bubble of safety and comfort.

She wanted it all—the warmth, the love, the domesticity—she craved it until it was unhealthy. She yearned for the tender touches, the gentle kisses, the late night whispering and the purity of it all.

But she was content with what she had.

And as her mother told her, ‘never ask for more than you are given.’

So, Namaari sat in her minimalist room, wiggling her feet on top of her sheet and contemplating if it's cold enough to elicit usage of her blanket. She thought not, for the thoughts swimming in her head like a school of fish were enough to keep her body at a moderate temperature. They sat in the hearth of her chest, stoking the fire they found there.

She wondered what it would be like to kiss Raya, but quickly shook the thought from her brain. She had kissed her knuckles as a joke—acting like the prince to her princess—and there have been multiple cheek and forehead kisses sprinkled here and there. They held hands, slept in the same bed, shared food—but never anything that could be seen as more than a harmless platonic friendship.

It tickled the top of her spine and caused her to subconsciously clench her jaw in frustration as her hands grasped her side swept cut, unable to figure out when she began to notice that her feelings for her childhood friend weren't platonic and certainly not friendly.

She thought back to age eight, when they were first introduced. Namaari had been dragged away by Raya to the Heart princesses’ room, opting to slide from the party unattended and mess around with miniature stone statues of dragons and a wooden carving of Heart that Raya made herself. They were found the next morning by Benja, having disappeared and worrying the adults. Virana stood behind with a fond smile on her face.

Namaari shook her head. It couldn't have been that early. They barely knew each other and they were much too young.

So, she thought about age ten. She had been to Heart multiple times over those two years but it was the first time that Fang was hosting the annual festival since Kumandra had become more than a fairytale. They bantered back and forth, seeing who could reach the top of the Fang palace first, and somehow Raya won by scaling the outside of it. Namaari still doesn't know how she did it, seeing as how the walls are practically as smooth as water, but she never asked.

Age ten might've been a parade of events and bonding, but it wasn't enough. She needs something more robust, more passionate.

Age twelve was a rollercoaster. She had been training so much that she had barely any free time to leave Fang, let alone travel all the way to Heart. Her trainer would teach her, she would study, and she would sleep. It was a droll time for her, certainly, but Raya found a way—she always found a way. Every so often, Raya would beg her Ba if she could shirk her own duties for a day, only a day, just to relax. Benja knew better, though he never told his daughter that, and would allow it, knowing that she would wander off with Tuktuk on her shoulder and run as swiftly as possible to Fang. Namaari waited after a time, enjoying the ever closing in sounds of grunts as she listened to Raya climbing the palace with expertise. She’ll never know how she did it, but she was thankful that she did. They would talk for hours before Raya would head back, the brightest smile on her face, all the way to Heart.

Twelve might have been a winner. Namaari remembered the smile on Raya’s face as clear as a crystal, remembered that her heart sped up that moment, remembered that it made her think that she wanted to see that smile every day for the rest of her life.

Namaari rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers and proceeded to drag them down her face, her cheeks sliding in protest. She clenched the bridge of her nose with two fingers, sighing.

Age sixteen was a blur. All she remembers is a lot of fuzzy details, a wet, warm sensation on her lips, waking up half naked, and finding at least two empty bottles of rice wine on her floor the next morning. Oh, and Raya next to her, half off the bed and half on, drooling like she was completely alone without a care in the world. It was a loud event, but perhaps they were all loud, she just hadn't noticed. Perhaps Raya calmed her senses, boggled her mind. Perhaps...Raya may remember it differently.

Here they are now, age eighteen, practically ready to become chief of their lands once their parents decide to step down and pass the mantle on. They made friends along the way but never drifted apart. Namaari was thankful for that.

“Hey,” Raya said, poking Namaari’s cheek with her index finger. “You’re quiet.”

Namaari stuck her head on a swivel, turning to her best friend with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

“Sorry.”

“For not talking?”

“No.” Namaari rubbed her face. “Yes. I don't know.”

Raya hummed. “That's alright. I can do the talking if you want.”

Add that to the list of things Namaari was thankful for and the ever expanding list of reasons why she loved Raya. It's not like she didn't talk a lot, because she did and could barely ever stop, but sometimes she preferred to sit and listen. It was serene, easy, listening to Raya’s voice. It swept her previous thoughts under a rug and forced her to focus on what was in front of her—right in front of her.

It wasn't until Raya’s nineteenth birthday celebration that Namaari acted. Or, tried to act.

“Hey Raya,” Namaari said, her feet propped up on a windowsill in Raya’s bedroom.

“Yeah?” Raya responded, making sure her outfit didn't possess any frills or folds (not that she cared, but she thought she should look decent if she's expecting guests).

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

The question caught Raya by surprise, having never been directly asked it before. Sure, they've discussed romance and weddings, children and other topics, but never anything too intimate.

Raya placed her hands palm down on the desk she was stationed by, staring down at the golden ring she wore that Namaari had gifted her the year prior. She felt her heartbeat skip a step in that moment, not knowing why or what she should respond with.

Raya knew about her feelings for Namaari. She had known for as long as the sun had risen and fallen, and she knew that she would be content with their friendship the way it was but never overly joyed. She knew from a young age that Namaari was more than a friend, more than a shoulder to lean on. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to get so lost in Namaari that she couldn't find where her soul ended and Namaari’s began. She longed to wake up next to her not because they had fallen asleep after a long night of chatting and avoiding a party, but because they chose to sleep there, chose to be close, chose to be with and by one another.

So, in terms of love, Raya knew. She wasn't oblivious, she wasn't stupid. She knew. She knew by the way she would look for Namaari in a crowded room. She knew by the way she wanted to hold her hand and touch her in ways that friends would never dare. She knew by the way that she smiled brighter than the sun when Namaari was around and by the way that her eyes found her after every joke was told. It wasn't a matter of discovering that she loved Namaari, it was a matter of accepting it.

“Yeah, once.” Raya fiddled with a loose thread from a bad hemming job on her shirt sleeve. She refused to meet Namaari’s gaze, let alone turn around, but she could feel it boring into the back of her head like a gunshot through a brick wall.

“Oh.” Namaari’s voice was flat, almost disappointed.

“I'm not sure she remembers it, though,” Raya tittered at the end, her voice as meek as a mouse.

“She?”

“Have I ever shown interest in men?” Raya finally turned around and immediately regretted it when she locked eyes with Namaari, the oxygen from her lungs being squished like a grape.

“Dep la,” Namaari started, standing to her full height and Raya could've sworn that her heart stopped at the nickname. “You've never shown interest in anyone.”

“That's—okay, no, that's true.”

Namaari lightly chuckled, walking up to her and straightening her collar so she could fold it over her shirt. Raya felt as if the room had all of a sudden burst into flames and Namaari was a bucket of water. It sounded lame in her head, but it was the best thing she could think of in the literal heat of the moment.

“So, who was this girl?” Namaari nonchalantly asked, stretching as she approached the door to the hallway.

“Oh, um,” Raya fidgeted nervously, lying through her teeth. “No one special. Like I said, she probably doesn't even remember it. We were sixteen—everyone does stupid things at sixteen.”

Thankfully, the subject was dropped.

“You look stunning, by the way.” Namaari smiled at her best friend, admiring the way she wrinkled her nose in denial and picked at a strand of loose hair.

“I highly doubt it, but thanks. I'm not sure how anyone can look stunning in formal wear.” Raya tugged at her collar but swept her eyes up and down Namaari’s form. “Unless, of course, it's you we’re talking about.”

“Please, compliments won't get you anywhere.” Namaari mutely snickered.

And before Raya could even think to clip her tongue,

“It's gotten me in your bed before.”

And then they were alone in the hallway, the boisterous party just another flight of stairs down, the cool breeze of the night practically dancing at their fingertips. They both stopped in their tracks, Namaari first, and Raya had to catch up with what she said.

“Oh,” Raya started, madly flailing her hands in front of her. “I didn't—that makes it sound sexual—I didn't mean it like that!”

Namaari's smile returns, though it seemed as though it had a few cracks in it this time.

“I know what you meant, dep la.” She sighed through her nose, tightening the grip her thumb and forefinger had her opposite wrist locked in. “Let's go, everyone is waiting.” She began walking.

“Yeah,” Raya agreed, her body on autopilot as she followed Namaari down the steps. “Yeah.”

That night, it all changed.

They were trekking back to Raya’s room, having spent hours enjoying festivities and foods they rarely have access to. They chatted with friends, family, and overall had a superb time.

“You've got me alone,” Raya said. “What is it you wanted to give me?”

She was never one for gifts, but if it was from Namaari, she couldn't seem to say no.

“It—” Namaari stutter stepped forward, unsure if she should close the distance between them or explain first. “—I can't give it to you, but...I can show you.”

“What, is it some sort of—!”

And Namaari was kissing Raya.

She didn't imagine it to be so wet, nor so soft or so warm, but it was. It made the tips of her fingertips tingle and her legs turn to jelly.

And after a moment, Raya was kissing her.

Raya was kissing her.

She felt two arms around her neck and a hand pushing her further into the other woman as her own hands cupped Raya’s cheeks as gingerly as humanely possible, wanting the innocence of it to last.

“I love you,” Namaari breathed, just as she had a thousand times before, but this time with a new meaning.

“I know,” Raya cooed, resting her forehead against Namaari’s. “I know.”

“I don't—” Namaari could barely hold back the tears. “I don't know when I realized it, I just—”

“Hey.”

The way Raya was looking at her, she could've swore she could die right there and be happy.

“I love you.”

And at that moment, it didn't seem to matter when or why or how Namaari realized she was in love with her best friend, just that she was and that it was brilliant. She was given the tender touches, the late night whispers and the purity of it. She was given the warmth and the love and the domesticity.

Maybe her mother was wrong. Maybe she should sometimes ask for more than she was given.

Because the one time she did, she was given Raya.

And that is something she doesn't need to figure out, because she's content to know that Raya loves her back, and that the girl she kissed was in fact Namaari. She's content to be everything they had been their whole lives and more. But being friends was being content, and now she's the happiest person alive.

So, Namaari taps her fingers on Raya’s back, tracing her bare spine, rolling over the goosebumps she leaves and she wonders about when she fell in love with Raya. She thinks hard about it for hours, eventually falling asleep from the mundaneness of it all.

It wasn't until years later, long after they married, that Namaari finally realized it.

She was always in love with Raya, and she always will be.

And that was enough.