"I can't decide what hurts more—the fact that promises and relationships mean nothing to you or that you go around kissing people making them feel lucky."
Amaya finished washing the dirty plates and glasses, her eyes glinting with a dangerous calm. She turned off the tap and took a deep breath before wrapping her drenched hand around Zeya's waist, and pulling her in close. "Do you really think a kiss makes someone lucky?" Amaya asked, her voice steady, devoid of any warmth.
Zeya's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. "A–Ama.." she called, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
Amaya leaned in, her face inches from Zeya's. "You think it's that easy? Just a kiss in hand, and they're lucky?" There was an intensity in her gaze, a tension that filled the air between them, making the moment feel electric.
Zeya swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Amaya's words pressing down on her. "Wai... wait, where?" she stammered, her voice trembling as she struggled to maintain her composure. The air around them was thick with unspoken emotions, leaving both of them on edge.
"Where do you kiss them in return for writing your notes?" Zeya asked again, her uncertainty creeping in. She noticed Amaya's expression shift, a coldness settling over her like a heavy blanket. Amaya rolled her eyes, her posture straight and detached, as if she were guarding herself against the world. "On their dominant hands," she replied flatly, her tone devoid of warmth. "I'm still a minor, and Seth has made it crystal clear: hug while dressed and kiss only on the dominant hand."
Zeya blinked, a flicker of happiness surged at Amaya's boundaries, but it was quickly overshadowed by a deep sadness, knowing how much she cherished Amaya. The truth that Amaya was already taken hit her hard. "You and Seth seem to really care about each other. But honestly, with all the bickering, it's hard to believe you two are engaged," Zeya teased, though her voice betrayed her, laced with a bittersweet ache that lingered in the air.
Amaya's expression shifted, her eyes clouded with a wistful longing as she turned away, her gaze fixated on the dripping tap. "Seth..." she began, her voice a mere whisper, before her gaze dropped to her engagement ring, the metal glinting in the dim light. "He's kind, loyal, supportive, caring, but honestly, he can be an idiot when it comes to his people. Everyone thinks he's a playboy, but he's never once touched a girl." Zeya watched as a shadow of sadness flickered across Amaya's face, her heart aching at the sight. If Seth was as wonderful as Amaya described, why did she wear such a mask of hopelessness?
"He keeps saying he agreed to our engagement because of my house, but in reality, he could build a thousand of those houses if he wanted," Amaya continued, her fingers tracing the delicate band of her ring. A bittersweet smile danced at the corner of her lips, but it was a fleeting glimpse, one Zeya barely caught. The tension in the air thickened, and Zeya felt a knot of confusion tighten in her stomach.
"We will be breaking our engagement once we both hit legal age." The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and Zeya's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? But why?!?" she blurted out, her voice laced with shock. "Because we're just two stars destined to shine brightly in the same sky, but forever out of reach," Amaya replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of her words pressed her down. "He's already eighteen, and he's just waiting for me to turn eighteen too. That's why we don't mind being in relationships with others, as long as we don't cross the line." Zeya's mind raced with questions, and she found herself asking without hesitation, "But what about your parents? Would they agree with your decision?"
At the mention of her parents, Amaya's fingers twitch involuntarily, her cold expression returning like a mask. After a deep breath, she replied, "No one has a say in our lives." The finality in her tone sent a chill through Zeya, leaving her with a sense of unease as the complexities of Amaya's heartache unfolded before her.
"Amaya, your phone is ringing," Zeya's mom said, her voice a gentle nudge that pulled Amaya from her thoughts. Zeya and Amaya both turned toward the kitchen door, the warm glow of the evening light spilling into the room. Amaya moved gracefully, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the charging plug as she picked up her phone, her heart fluttering slightly at the sight of Sophia's name on the screen. "Hello," she answered, her tone a mix of anticipation and unease.
Zeya's mom busied herself, clearing the plates from the table. Her gaze lingered on the washed dishes, then shifted to Amaya's back, where the tension of unspoken words hung in the air. Zeya settled onto the sofa, her eyes fixed on Amaya, a storm of thoughts swirling in her mind, each one heavy with what-ifs and maybes. "He already left. Might be with Fred," Amaya said, her voice barely above a whisper, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features before she ended the call.
"I need to leave now," Amaya stated, turning to face Zeya, her expression softening as she met her concerned gaze. "Oh okay. I'll accompany you to—" Zeya began, her voice trailing off as Amaya gently interrupted her. "It's okay. It's quite late, so stay inside. I'm used to walking in this street late at night." There was a quiet strength in her words, but Zeya could see the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
Amaya stepped into the kitchen, her footsteps light against the tiled floor as she approached Zeya's mom. "Aunty, thank you for inviting me and for the delicious dinner too," she said, bowing her head slightly, her smile genuine yet carrying a whisper of melancholy, her eyes shimmering with unspoken feelings. Zeya's mom turned, her eyes warm and gentle, radiating motherly concern. "It's quite late, dear. Why don't you stay the night? I can give your parents a call," she offered, her voice soothing, filled with genuine concern.
Amaya shook her head, her smile brightening as she felt a rush of affection. "Some other day, Aunty. I promise I'll come again just for you and your food," she replied, a playful glint dancing in her eyes, which sparked a smile on Zeya's mom's face, easing the tension that had settled in the room.
"Of course, you're always welcome here. Just be safe out there," she said, her voice laced with affection, a slight crease of worry forming on her brow.
Amaya nodded, her heart warmed by the kindness, and as she walked out, she grabbed her phone from the table next to Zeya. With a playful ruffled of Zeya's hair, she leaned down, her voice barely above a whisper, "Goodnight." The words hung in the air, soft and sweet, as she made her way toward the door.
Instead of going home, Amaya changed her steps, her feet moving steadily through the chilly night air. Each step was deliberate, the coolness wrapping around her as she walked alone, the silence of the night deepening with every step. Finally, her legs took the last step, halting in front of a tombstone with a name Leon Sapphirus engraved in it. The cold wind brushed against her, causing her lashes to flutter delicately, as if in response to the night's breath.
Her hair danced lightly in the breeze, strands swirling around her face, framing her features in a ghostly halo. Standing alone in the dark cemetery, the weight of loneliness enveloped her. With a deep breath, she parted her lips, her voice barely rising above the whisper of the wind as she said, "Goodnight, papa." The words hung in the air, a soft farewell that mingled with the chill, as she allowed the sorrow and love to intertwine in that quiet moment.