“Yours is the light by which my spirit's born:

The new school-year has started not too long ago, and while you had no issues adjusting to yet another unfamiliar class, you didn't bother intermingling with anyone either, at least not putting in the effort to do so. You were quite content with the way things are. Some connections, enough to last the day, but not enough to go beyond the school grounds.

So, of course you were surprised when Phainon suddenly started a conversation with you. Not that you have never talked to him before, of course you did in some shape or form; some smalltalk, some stuff relating to classwork and the likes. What actually surprised you was what he said, without any warning, without any indication that he might ever ask you for anything.

"Hey, want to skip homeroom?"

And you don't know what compelled you, what had gotten into you so you agreed so easily, without any further thoughts—maybe you were smote down by the radiance of his existence, maybe his smile struck you down to your core, making your heart thump louder and more energetic than you have ever felt.

Once you accepted, once you nodded your head and stood up from your seat, he gifts you a smile, one even brighter than the one before, one shining like the warmth of the summer-sun, one that makes your brain stutter and your heart skip a beat. You immediately look away, pressing your hand to your chest—is this fear, or excitement?

But you had no time to contemplate, as Phainon grabs your wrist—loosely enough for you to pull away anytime, but you don't, as for some reason, his touch makes your skin warm and your insides fuzzy—before he leads you out of the classroom and consequently out of school. And not once have you looked back, your eyes glued to the back of his head. Where you notice some hair curling at the nape of his neck, making you wonder how they would feel against your fingertips, to brush against them and against the skin directly underneath.

You quickly banish the thought, as he lets you go and you both board a bus. Even though you're not sure where he's taking you, you don't feel afraid. For some reason, you trust him, or at least you want to trust him. Instead, you follow him to some seats and sit down next to him. Your shoulders brush and his warmth radiates off of him, close to your skin, but not uncomfortably so. Rather, if you could you'd lean even closer. Maybe even lay your head on his shoulder. This sudden thought startles you, and you feel even more aware of him. More aware of his scent tickling your nose, of the tiniest freckles on his skin, of the way he's towering over you, even when sitting down, of the way his arm brushes against yours, his leg rustles against yours every time the bus jostles. The proximity and him, suddenly filling up every single sense of yours.

Suddenly, even breathing is laborious, trying to not hold it in, but also to not huff all at once. But once you have gotten aware of your breathing, it seems only to get worse to control it, afraid it might be too loud, too annoying, too obvious. You try to regulate it as best as possible, but every time Phainon touches you by accident, the air wedges itself right into your throat, forcing you to swallow and breathe. If this goes any longer, you might just completely choke on your own. Which would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you and you can't show anyone any weaknesses, never.

So, somehow, you manage to not faint until he tells you the stop you're supposed to get out at. You quickly move, relief—and something else, something heavy—floods your body once you're physically away from him. And once you're outside, the noise is already beckoning you closer. The rustle of the waves so far away, yet closer than ever before. The moment you realize, you immediately turn towards Phainon, making direct eye contact with him immediately, as if he was watching you, watching your reaction. And the way you opened your eyes, joy and excitement glimmering in them, mouth slightly agape in surprise seemed satisfactory by the way as he gives you yet another brilliant smile. This time, you manage to give him one back, smaller, wobblier, but a sincere one.

He jerks his head towards its direction. "C'mon, it's closer than you think."

With this, he takes your hand in this. This time properly, not the way he has loosely held your wrist before. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and it's spreading and spreading until it's filling up your heart, and it's beating with a vigor you haven't known before. And you can't help but wonder how it would feel like to intertwine your fingers and be even closer, to be in each other's grasp like that. But you quickly shake your head. Once again, your mind is taking things further than they should. You shouldn't expect anymore from Phainon than this, this is more than enough. To hold his hand and bask in his sunshine. To watch the tiny strands of hair tickle the back of his neck as he's walking in front of you. To watch as his nose scrunches ever so slightly when he gives you one of those real smiles of his, the ones you haven't seen on him before. If you had any audacity inside of you, you might've assumed they were meant for your eyes only. But you don't. And so, you know it could never be.

This is enough. Far more than you deserve.

Phainon slows down and comes to a halt, just at the edge of the sea. Where you're finally able to take away your eyes from him and look towards its vastness. The beautiful waves topped with soft foam, and the colors of the sky and ocean mixing and weaving, all while the sun is shimmering above them, giving the water a softness beyond imagination. And at the same time, they represent the colors you think of when Phainon comes to mind. Equally mesmerizing and beautiful, something to catch your heart and to never leave again.

You glance at Phainon, and your heart skips a beat. His eyes are already on you, and his smile widens when you meet his gaze. Breathtaking. Illuminating. Epiphanic.

Oh.

Oh.

A realization dawns upon you, one you can't help but clutch at your chest, one overwhelming, joyous, yet grievous. You're not sure since when these seeds have taken place in your heart, but you feel them blooming oh-so-beautifully inside of you, spreading their buds into leaves, basking in the sunshine by your side. And yet, you know that it's more than you should have ever allowed yourself. For now, you will allow yourself to dive into this feeling, into the excitement and warmth, and allow yourself to grieve what was never meant to be once you're alone in the corner of your room.

So, you manage to give him a smile back, one genuine, one filled with gratefulness and just a fraction of your true feelings. Even if you could never hope to emulate him, you hoped to at least give him something back, something in the form of appreciation, joy, and love.

Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't. Before you could take a closer look at him to see his reaction, Phainon is once again taking the lead, kicking his shoes off while dragging you closer to the water. Caught off guard, you simply follow his lead without thinking why he might do that. And enjoying the softness of the sand under your feet, grains flowing between your toes, cool and ticklish. All while your eyes are fixated on him, on the way the sun halos his frame, giving Phainon a soft glow, something out of this world.

Until something else, something colder touches your feet, and you can't help but squeak in surprise. The waves slosh around your skin, caressing you, inviting you. And you barely noticed, too focused on the person in front of you. This makes the heat raise into your face, and you're glad it's warm and the sun is there, and it can be explained away easily. It's embarrassing to know that a simple realization, a simple feeling can change the way you perceive the world completely, from one moment to the other. Now, Phainon is the center of your world. And nothing could change that—at least for today.

You move a bit deeper into the sea, until the waves are tickling at your ankles. The water is cool, soothing and calm. If you could, you'd stay like that for a while, or even longer. But it seems your companion had another plan, as he carefully lets go of your hand—and you let him, how could you do otherwise, even if his hand against yours has grown to be something you consider normal, needed, necessary, even if it just happened a short while ago. It left you clammy and cold, and almost lonely. Even if he's technically still standing by your side. You have grown greedy. He has given you something, a gift of a lifetime, and yet you desire more, desire more than a simple day with him.

Cold water splashed against your face, and you startle out of your spiral. And then you see the culprit. Phainon is giving you a mischievous grin, his hands dripping and wet and his body closer to the water to spray you with it however he wants. For a moment, you only blink at him blankly, brain not processing what's happening right now, taken by this new expression of his, filing it away forever. Until you watch as he's dipping his fingers into the water once again. At this, you quickly take a couple steps to the side and barely avoid his next attack. His provocation fires you up and you feel a grin spread over your face.

"Oh, you're on."

With your declaration of war, you cup your hands into the water and begin throwing it towards him. But he's faster, more agile, and avoids your slow attacks with ease. But you can't let this sit on you, he shall not leave this place safe and dry. So, you immediately take on your biggest weapon.

You wait until his guard is down, until he readies himself to attack again, holding eye contact with you. But before Phainon could make his move, you quickly kick your leg up, a massive spray of water following and hitting him directly, some of it even straight into his face. His sputtering and slight stagger makes you giggle, you almost forgot to continue your attack. Until another wave of water hits you, and you notice that he's getting closer and closer, closing the distance to make your weapon ineffective. You immediately continue to spray him with water relentlessly while trying to put some distance between you once again.

But he's persistent. No matter how much water is filling his mouth and stinging in his eyes, he never stops moving, and because you can only take that many steps, he's quick to get closer and closer. Despite that, you hear him giggle between his sputters and the sounds make you giggle in turn, giddiness overtaking you. You're so busy with him, you stumble slightly as you're taking yet another step back, halting your attacks for a small interval. More than enough for Phainon to take a big step and close the rest of the distance. But instead of the water attack you expect, especially as he's still fighting through the last of yours, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you with ease. You squeak in surprise and kick your legs up in surprise. Which somehow shifts the center of gravity and Phainon loses his balance. With you in his arms.

With a big splash, you both end up deep in the water, sputtering as you're now wet and your mouth full of water. You stick your tongue out in disgust. Only to find yourself looking into his eyes. Phainon was much closer than you would have ever anticipated. But what else would have happened. He was holding you during the fall, and now you're practically sprawled on top of him. You feel the heat rise to your head, and even if you would rather do nothing than admire his eyes—a beautiful shade of blue, a small halo around his iris, almost like the rays of the sun have taken space in them, long lashes now clumped into something so alluring—you quickly scamper off.

"O-oh, I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?"

Instead of answering your question, Phainon grabs your wrist. And even if you're both wet, his skin is still warm against yours, making your insides tickle. He pulls you closer again. Not close enough to touch, but closer than socially acceptable. At least you think so. And before you could react, he opens his mouth to speak.

"I like you."

Huh?

"Huh?"

"I like you."

It almost feels as if your whole world was turned upside down. As if the fall into the water has transported you into an alternate reality where everything you've ever wanted came true. As if you have woken up in a dream, in your imagination. It doesn't feel real. Why would he, Phainon, like you? It's not like you have talked a lot or made a meaningful connection. Even if today was the best day you've ever had, one you could never forget, no matter what. But it can't be the same for him, can it? You're at a loss for words. Your thoughts gone, only filled with the way he looked at you—big eyes, almost like he's asking you for the world, a slight open mouth, hesitant, his fingers trembling against your skin, not due to the cold water but because of something else, a red tinge to his ears. And with his words, too. I like you. I like you. I like you.

And what about you? It's so easy, isn't it? But the words are stuck in your throat, and there's a sniffle instead. You only realize why once you watch Phainon's facial features change from somewhat anxious, somewhat expectant, to downright afraid. The grip on you slackens—he doesn't let go, though—while the other reaches out to your face, but he doesn't quite dare to touch you just yet.

The heat of the tears rolling down your cheeks are the last thing you notice.

You quickly raise your own hand to wipe at your eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know wh—"

"No, I'm sorry. You—You should forget I said anything, okay? I'm sorry." It's obvious it was the last thing he wanted to say, his hand dropping and his face averting.

But you manage to quickly react and to grap his hand to hold it between yours. "No! I won't!"

At this, Phainon quickly turns your way, eyes wide, but also filled with light and hope, mixed in with some confusion.

"I'm sorry for tearing up. I just—I just got overwhelmed…" And you like him, you like him so much, it feels like a dream, and you need to tell him. "And… and I like you, too. Please don't take it back…"

You press his hand against your forehead and close your eyes. As if you're praying. And you understand how people could worship the sun. You would, too, if the sun was anything remotely like Phainon.

A sniffle escapes you when he pulls his hand away and you're immediately grieving the warmth he has given you. Only to feel his arms around you as he's pulling you into a careful embrace. You immediately press your face into his shoulder and put your arms around him. And despite the wet clothes between you both, you feel the heat of his body and there's no other place you'd rather be at. His hand is carefully on the back of your head as he's pressing his cheek against your head. His breath fanning against your skin, making you shiver, a high contrast with the cold water droplets. You barely expect his voice to be so close to your ear when he starts speaking in a low, soft voice.

"Thank you. I promise to treat you well. I like you so much…"

At this, it seems as if all your feelings are lodged up in your throat. There's barely anything you could say anyway, your brain a fuzz, filled with his touch and his warmth and his voice and his words.

"…I like you, so so much…" is all you could offer him, your fingers digging into his clothes. And his answer is a simple squeeze, one filled with so much, things you can't wait to explore together with him. Because now, your time together isn't limited, rather it's going to last; for as long as the sun touches the sea, your hearts will be connected, basking together in that which is adoration and love.

You barely remember what happened after. But it seems as once Phainon has noticed the wind coming down—making everything seem much colder than it was just some time earlier—he quickly got on his feet and helped you up, too. And he doesn't let go of your hand as you're walking out of the water together. Your only source of warmth while the goosebumps cover on your skin and the small shivers dance across it. You were already dreading your way home, soaked and cold and alone, when suddenly there's something covering your vision, covering the top of your head.

"I, uh, might've expected something like that, so I came prepared," Phainon explains, his hands carefully rubbing the moisture out of your hair with the small towel he had brought. "It might not be enough, though. I'm sorry."

"Mhm!" You shake your head. "This is more than enough, thank you." You allow yourself to indulge in this, to let him dry you in small touches, careful and soft, the towel dabbing at your face until he stops himself once he begins to lean towards the areas below your chin. You peek below the hem of the towel and see the flush on his face, obviously hesitating and deep in thought. For a moment, you think about teasing him and asking him to continue, but you don't want him to catch a cold—he hadn't dried himself yet (And you can't lose focus, watching the way the strands of hair stick back, slicked by one quick movement of his hand, something done thoughtlessly yet enough to strike you through the heart). Instead, you quickly duck out of his reach and grab the other towel laying on top of his bag.

"My turn now!"

A declaration so bold, the biggest obstacle forgotten: the difference in size. You barely reach the top of his head properly. And once you tried to stand on your tiptoes to lean closer to him, he immediately sidesteps you, his face now brighter than it was just now.

"Oh, uhm, maybe not like that? Let me sit down…"

For a moment you wonder what that reaction was, he didn't have a problem with drying you, much less with touching each other. Until you remember that you're soaking wet and that your shirt is probably sheer right now, the flimsy material of your summer uniform too light to withstand the water. And you were so close to him, too. The heat rises to your head and you feel like you could dig yourself into a hole right now. Usually, you might've just run away, taking to the other direction without looking back, but you had a mission, something you couldn't just abandon on a mere whim. A new kind of fire grabs you and you feel much more determined to overcome this and fulfill what you have set out to do.

You turn around to face Phainon, only to suddenly have something pulled over your head. With a gasp you manage to pull the fabric down and release your head from its confinement. Upon looking down on yourself once you're free, you notice what it is. A hoodie. You immediately glance towards Phainon. The same one who's actually averting his eyes to avoid looking you in the eye, yet the redness at the tip of his ears evidence enough.

"You might get cold. That's all."

At this, you feel your heart squeeze and you might just tear up again. But instead of crashing out and confessing to him once again, you grab the towel in your hands tighter—an attempt to release your tension another way—and carefully shove Phainon towards the nearest bench. There, you take position behind him—even if you did want to stand in front of him and get a closer look, but you can't get distracted—and put the towel over his head. You take a breath before you slowly and carefully begin to dry his hair in circular motions, slightly squeezing at each section to get the water out properly. And once you reach the hair at the back of his neck, you can't help but twirl the small strands on your finger, the towel now hanging around his neck. It's so cute You barely can believe you can be this close to him and are able to do something as simple, yet monumental, as this. And you like Phainon so much, you want to see more of him, to know him better than anyone ever has.

So, in this moment of overwhelming emotions, you let your impulses win. And blow slightly into his ear. His reaction is immediate, it's almost a flinch, but it seems like he held himself back ever so slightly, so it turned into a twitch of some sort. Phainon turns around to face you, his hand pressing against his ear, face flushing, eyes wide and searching all over your features. In some way, you feel more put on the spot than he probably does, all his focus suddenly on you.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

A grin spreads over your face, one slightly wobbly but without a bit of regret, and you giggle. "Exploring!"

He raises his eyebrows, his eyes suddenly sharpening as he drops his hand. And his voice is lower than you have expected when he immediately retorts: "Exploring? Can I try that, too?"

Before you could answer, he grabs your wrists and pulls you down to him. Due to his pull, you stumble over the edge of the bench and he catches you with ease, positioning you closer to him immediately. This way, you're practically sitting on his lap, your legs thrown over his, his hand splaying on your lower back. But while you're so focused on the way your bodies are touching, it doesn't seem to bother him at all. His eyes are locked on something else entirely.

"I'd like to explore… This," Phainon murmurs and slightly angles his head to lean closer to you. Slow enough for you to react if you wanted, to pull away if you wanted. And you knew that he wouldn't mind if you did.

But you don't. You don't pull away, because you want to feel his touch, a more intimate one, something that shall only be reserved for you from now on. So, instead of giving him any big reaction, you simply close your eyes and wait. Your heart beating so loud in your ears, it almost drowns out the murmur of the sea in the background. And all you can feel is him; his thumb caressing your wrist, his hand pressing you closer towards him ever so slightly, his breath brushing over your face, his scent on your tongue.

His lips softly touch yours, something that sends electricity through your body. It's just a small bit of contact, and yet it feels like so much more. It feels as if you're getting swallowed up by your overwhelming feelings for him, as if you're slotting right into place, right where you belong. It's exhilarating, life-changing. Soft lips against yours, their shape and feel so distinct, so addicting. You doubt you could ever get enough. But everything has to come to an end.

You slowly open your eyes once his touch is gone. But despite pulling away, Phainon is still so close; you can smell him, his breath mingling with yours, you can taste him on your lips, his traces all over you. And you want more. You want to taste him some more and you want to see him flush in this exact shade once more. And you want him to look into your eyes, filled with obvious feelings of adoration just like he does now. You want to do this all over again, experience it all over again.

It feels as if your heart might burst just from thinking about it over and over again, and maybe Phainon's does too. Because he leans in again and captures your lips once again in a sweet kiss. And again and again and again. Until he just rests his forehead against yours. Serenity and quiet happiness between you, nothing but the sounds of waves and your heartbeats in an echo. You can't help but smile and sigh contently. What more could you want, what more could you ask for? Your heart is full, close to bursting with everything he has given you, with everything he will give you, with everything you want to give to him and share with him.

You're not sure how long you both stayed like this, arm in arm. But it was long enough for the sun to warm you up and to somewhat dry your clothes. That's why you tried to give him his hoodie back—even if in truth you wanted to keep wearing it and feel as if he's still by your side—, but he refused, telling you to give it back to him another time. This only made you happier, your wish coming true. And as you press your face against the hem of it and took a breather his scent, fainter than from him, but strong enough to make you giddy, you can't help but wonder if Phainon can read your mind, always able to do and to say exactly what you want. At the same time, you hope to be able to do the same for him, to be able to give him these small joys, just by knowing him and getting to know him, by being the closest person to his heart.