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Sunset. Something I could never take for granted. How could
anybody? I mean, it's exquisite, and there's always something
beautifully different about it every time,
Kinda like someone I know.
The air is warm and smells of freshly mown grass. I'm sitting
out on the steps of her house. My house. I still can't get used to
calling it that. Doubt I ever will.
I love it here.
Maybe it's the perfect sunset. Maybe it's the perfect company.
It freaks me out to think it, but there is something there.
Something intense. Something frightening. And it gets a little
crazier every day. It makes me nervous because it's new and
it's controversial and it's so close to home. But then it excites me
because of its possibility and its energy and I've never felt
anything like it before.
When I think of her, my heart races. When I'm near her, I need
to look at her. In some romantic metaphorical sense, she's like the
sunset. Something to anticipate, to witness and enjoy. And she's
completely oblivious as to how awe-inspiring she is. That's part
of her charm.
Maybe it's because of all she's done for me. She welcomed me
into her home, accepted me as a friend.
It makes a change to being abandoned.
She's the best part of my day. She reminds me I'm not alone. I
haven't been entirely abandoned. I'm wanted. Maybe even needed.
Nothing beats that.
"Hey."
I look up and see the girl in question beaming down at me. She holds
up two mugs.
"Hot chocolate for two."
She sits down on the step next to me and hands me a mug with Tweety
Pie on it.
"Thanks. But I thought I was the waitress." I laugh.
She shrugs and sips her steaming drink. I do the same with mine.
"Sunset gazing again?" She asks, bumping her shoulder against mine.
I catch the scent of her hair. Vanilla.
"Call me obsessed." I sigh, and look at the sky of pink and
orange and shades of blue.
"You're obsessed," she quips, "I don't see what's so amazing. It
happens everyday."
I turn my head to look at her and I can't hep smiling. Just as I
expected. Completely oblivious to hidden beauty.
She frowns at me, "What?"
"Nothing. Just·sounds like something Chloe Sullivan would say."
"Hence, me actually saying it." She sips her drink again,
then pauses, her eyes focussed so intently on my face it's like
she's examining me. She's searching for something. My heart
jumps. "Lana, are you okay?"
I look at her, sat next to me, sharing the sunset, her hip pressed
against mine. Am I okay? I rest my head on Chloe's shoulder.
"Perfect."
The sun sinks beneath the horizon and Chloe's head leans against
mine.
Perfect.
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