#teaguru

MEGURU: [laughing breathlessly] that was so fun, i think almost passed out. heh, so worth it.

TEA: [pouting cutely, chest heaving as she turns to face meguru] i told you to not go easy on me just ‘cause it’s my birthday!

MEGURU: [still catching his breath] pinky promise, i wasn’t! guess you’re just that good at soccer.

TEA: [giggling, reaching out to poke his cheek] you’d better watch out — i may just wind up snagging your spot on the U20 team.

meguru scoots closer to tea, taking her hand and playfully biting her finger in a show of defiance. their laughter overlaps, blown through the wind. It dances through the tree, swirls ‘round the tops of grassy blades like a secret only the two of them are privy to.

he then rolls on his side to face her. the curve of his smile stretches ear-to-ear, and his gaze softens — almost melts as he studies tea. the bridge of her nose, the sun-flush on her cheeks, the way her eyes crease at the corners from the joy of being in love. he looks at her as if he’s the only one in the world allowed to look.

MEGURU: i’m so happy that we get to spend your birthday like this. no crowds, no chaos… just you, and me, and the grass.

a beat of silence follows. vast and warm and gentle. the kind that feels like a cradle. then, meguru props himself up on an elbow buried in the dirt, curls falling into his eyes. there’s something in the expression he wears, too intense for a smile to fully carry.  

MEGURU: [serious, in his own way] you know, i really enjoy birthdays.

TEA: [quirking a brow curiously] oh?

MEGURU: it’s like… a day for you to be the sun. just one day where everything revolves around you. you deserve that, tea… a whole wide universe that pays attention to how bright and special you are.

he speaks simply. the words are honest and pure, in the way a child loves. no flowery dressing to it, nor practiced charm.

tea stares back, breath catching in her throat. she searches her boyfriend’s face like a map, like something she’s been running all her life toward.

TEA: [sincerely, biting back a flustered laugh] you’re such a dork.

MEGURU: [glancing up at tea with earnest] your dork, though.

shadows shift over their bodies – nearly in an embrace, and a bird chirps in the distant. the sun dips a little lower, as if to grace the couple with the privacy they’ll soon be wanting. meguru leans back again, this time, with his cheek pressed to tea’s shoulder. he squints up at her against the setting light, humming low and threadbare and gentle.

a soothing hush falls, and the leaves stops rustling as the wind stills. waiting, anticipating.

MEGURU: [gently] can i kiss you, tea?

TEA: you’re asking this, on my birthday?

MEGURU: [grinning in that boyish, crooked way of his] what — i have manners!

she giggles, and pulls him closer with grassy palms. he leans in quietly, the same way a tide eases up along the shore. and then, their lips meet — soft and easy and slow and natural. meguru’s hand smooths along tea’s waist, coming up to cup her jaw, thumb brushing the lift of her cheekbone in an attempt to memorise the moment they share by touch alone.

they pull apart hesitantly, only slightly. noses bumping and eyes fluttering happily.

with a squeal, tea gets pulled into meguru’s lap, and he rolls them both over. he cradles her in his arms, as though he’s holding the brightest star in his sky.

and the earth holds them both, as though they belong to it.

MEGURU: [low and adoring, whispered into tea’s hair] you make me feel like i’m already winning, even when i’m not chasing anything.

tea doesn’t respond – at least, not with words. she simply slips her fingers and threads her palms with his, twisting together, roots twisting into the dirt.

growing deeper, growing stronger.