ur friendly neighborhood brewster

times like these spent underneath the inky dusk sky are always impromptu.

that’s how things have to be when they’re busy working during the daylight, and then there’s the issue of privacy (a lack of), and planning, and…

they’re more suited to random bouts of relaxing together, anyway. that’s how sofia likes it best, and that’s how they work best. do these bursts of free time with each other whenever they can spare some qualify as real, true ‘dates’?

nah, it doesn’t matter. laid on the sprawling grassy hills of humble turffield, raihan on his back in casual summer clothes and babbling about whatever comes to mind, she feels that same warmth of tenderness between them as any formal ‘date.’

these times are the most carefree and genuine. better than faking smiles to paparazzi and hiding in baggy clothes undercover to sneak past fans.

the soft hues of golden sunset have gently bled into milky twilight: all royal purples and dark navy waves through the sky. the roaming wooloo have gone to sleep, and the moon peaks up beyond the rolling plains with a silver glow. it casts shadows all over, but lights up the sharp features of raihan’s face, makes his ultramarine irises shine.

she tries not to stare but gives into it—reminding herself it’s okay to, they’re dating—talking along in the soothing lull that’s been going back and forth for hours.

hours spent exchanging stories and goofing off. sometimes sofia still catches her face heating up when the circumstances sink in—like the most wild dream she could ever muster, except it’s tangible.

then raihan breaks the perfect illusion just as quick, complaining that he’s starving, and if he doesn’t eat he’s going to die. but even though she rolls her eyes at the dramatics, her heart swells with a twang of fondness.

luckily, the two of them had snagged baked treats back in town before coming out into the lonely nature of the countryside. all the bakeries would be closed at this time. raihan sifts through some of the neatly wrapped boxes, finds something for himself and tosses a chocolate muffin to her.

not warm, of course it still wouldn’t be. but it’s made from scratch here with local ingredients, in that farming-town, homestyle sort of way. tastier than the finest lava cookies or casteliacones, sofia decides, as she bites into it and it crumbles deliciously. the chocolate chunks spread throughout are fudgy and smooth on her tongue.

when the muffin is all but gone, the sky has shifted to pitch dark. she sits on the ground with her legs tucked into her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, and looks up to the sparkles of constellations newly visible in the sky.

then back to raihan. then up again to map out the stars. then to raihan once more.

it’s funny, because the sight of him utterly content and snacking and cooing at her, of him snapping photos of the dots of celestial bodies that are brighter here than in hammerlocke... the cosmos simply can’t compare to that.