Her

37

AZA

"Here you go, girls." The waitress puts down two plates, filled with identical meals. "Your pancakes."

I let out a laugh. What are the changes of Phoenix ordering the same thing for me which I ordered for her? I suck at maths, so I have no idea, but I still don't think they're very high. The waitress looks at me, perplexed. "This was your order, wasn't it? Or am I wrong?"

"No, you're not," I say. "It's perfect."

I look at Phoenix, and I think, you're perfect. Maybe she can hear my thoughts, I don't know, but she gives me the most heartwarming smile I've ever seen. Is there a stronger word for heartwarming? I can't think of one, but right now, when she looks at me, it feels like bodywarming, soulwarming, and heartwarming. It feels like everything.

"And here," the waitress says, "are your drinks. A hot chocolate for..."

"Me," I say, feeling my smile growing even bigger.

"Okay. And for you," she says, looking at Phoenix, "a Flying Phoenix."

Now it's her who lets out a laugh. The waitress gives her another one of her perplexed looks.

"Is this not what you ordered?"

"Oh, it is," Phoenix says. "It's perfect." She looks at me.

"Okay. Well, enjoy your meal." The waitress leaves, still slightly perplexed.

"A Flying Phoenix?" Phoenix looks at the drink in front of her, a mixture of the colours red, orange, and yellow. "What even is this?"

"Not sure. I think it's some sort of cocktail or juice for children. It was on the kids' menu."

"You ordered me something from the kids' menu?"

"It had a nice name."

We have breakfast - or if you take a look at the time, brunch, then leave the diner, our stomachs filled with pancakes and laughter.

PHOENIX

"So," I say, putting on my seatbelt, "SAP..."

"So," Aza says, "SAP..."

"I..." I bite my thumbnail. "I might apply."

"Really?" Her voice and face tell me that she's trying not to sound excited - but she still does. And honestly, I find it kind of cute.

"Maybe. I mean, there's only about a month left, so I don't know whether I'll manage to come up with something. But yeah, maybe."

"Maybe," Aza repeats. "That's great, Phoenix." She gives me the softest look ever, and squeezes my hand just as softly. I feel my stomach filling up with these metaphorical butterflies people always talk about. I didn't think they actually existed. Now I do. I smile at Aza and give her a soft kiss.

"So," I say. "Where are we going now? Home?" After the words are out, I realise I'm talking about Aza's home like it is our home. I'm not sure she realises.

AZA

Home. One thing I've noticed is that Phoenix never uses that word. Whenever we spend time together and it's time for Phoenix to leave, she never says something like, "I have to go home." She says something like, "I have to leave," or "I should go." Home. She never, ever, uses that word. Until now.

PHOENIX

Aza looks at me, and I'm sure she does realise. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, so I close it. Then, Aza smiles at me, not just with her lips but with her eyes, her mouth, her whole face. Then, she kisses me.