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sky
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—fortyfour—
{ part two }
the prettiest words
WHILE PAIGE MIGHT had slept a little too late, she was able to wake up at around seven in the morning. Mr Santiago just got into the cabin while she was treading down the stairs earlier. He had a bag of fresh items with him that he'd gotten from the local market.
"Good morning, Ma'am Paige," he'd greeted, the moment they both reached the kitchen. Accompanied with his rich Filipino accent, Mr Santiago had a wavy black hair, some white streaks on them, his skin naturally tanned that reminded her of the tropics. "You're up very early, ah?"
"Yes," she said, perching her phone atop the counter before looking inside the bag that he'd placed there. "What d'you got?"
"Some eggs, cheese, bananas..." he went on as she peered at the foods he mentioned one by one, "...what do you want for breakfast, Ma'am?"
"Oh, please. Just Paige, Santi...? Can I call you Santi?"
"No problem!" He laughed, so did she. "Tell me what you want and I will make it for you."
She hummed in a way that was akin to someone thinking. "So we all know that I'm allergic to eggs, but Owen likes them. I'm thinking about waffles actually. But I'll have avocado toasts for today. Do we still have them, though?"
"Yes, we have!"
She let out a breath. "Great. Um, you know what, Santi? I think I'd like to cook for the sleepyhead today."
"Oh, I'll help you, then." Santi grinned in that sunny way of his and began to rummaged through the fridge. Then, he peered at her behind his shoulder as he added, "You both slept late? Ah, you sneaky little girl. You must have tired him out ha?"
She flushed. "What? No, it's not like that."
"Oh, shush." He'd placed some items in successive manner on the counter as he squinted at her with a meaningful gaze. Santi waved her off and laughed, his chest puffing out. "It's okay, noh. You don't have to be shy with me. Me and my wife, we do it all the time."
"Santi," she gasped in horror. "Nothing happened, really. He's not my boyfriend."
He frowned, pulling out a few sourdough bread from a plastic bag and put them on a plate. "Oh, he isn't? I thought...but you look good together. What can go wrong with you and him alone in here, right? He loves you, you love him. It's all good! Look oh, you're blushing!"
She blinked, and flushed even more. "Well, I mean, we're not–like. I dunno." Even though Santi was wrong on a couple of things, she didn't bother correcting him. It didn't matter much, really. She shook her head and breathed out an exasperated sigh as if this was stressing her out. Santi had no filter at all. He was too friendly and straightforward, but she wasn't complaining. You couldn't when one was a good company. "Anyways, I'll leave the prep to you and I'll do the cooking. I just need some mushrooms, four eggs, rocket leaves, tomatoes, um, olive oil–yeah. Oh, and chili sauce, please."
"Okay, no problem."
"Thanks, Santi. Don't worry about the avocado toasts. I'll deal with that later."
Once Santi was finished preparing the ones she needed for Owen's breakfast, which didn't really take five minutes, she preheated the pan and drizzled some olive oil soon after. At the same time, Santi was mashing the avocados.
"How did you end up working for the Callaghans, Santi?"
"Well, we've been living here for long enough to be friends with the previous owner. I'm old now and I prefer to watch over my wife. She has arthritis. And there's nothing much to do here in this small town, so I told him I could take care of the cabin when he's not around. Then he referred me to Senator Mike a week before he left for England to be with his family."
"I see. That's nice, you know. The simple living. No pressure. You do have kids, right, Santi?" she asked.
"Yes, Ma'am Paige–"
"Paige."
"Paige, yeah, okay. I have two sons. One's a nurse, the youngest is in college in Rockstring."
Paige smiled at him, now frying the mushrooms. "Oh, really? Which school?"
"At Saint Michael," he said, and she'd faintly recalled that before Arthur got into Hackett University, he was studying at the said school. To this day, Jouwee and her never really figured out what she was telling her about 'something different' with him, or what actually happened when he left Saint Michael. "I miss my boys. They grow too quickly, you see. So tall now. My oldest is about to get married. They are coming home today to spend the holidays with us parents."
She cracked the eggs into the pan when the mushrooms were already fried to how she'd wanted it. "Today?"
"Yeah. Right now. My wife's waiting for them."
"Oh, well...you have to go now, then."
He shrugged, sprinkling some salt into the avocado. "It's alright. I want to help you here."
She gave him a feigned glower. "If you stay here, I'm not going to like it." Then she beamed and patted him on the shoulder. "Go on. Your kids would surely want to see you both waiting for them, you know? I'll be fine. This one's too easy to make. You're practically disturbing me."
They both chuckled and he nodded understandingly. She was left in a comfortable silence right after, and she was contented at cold mornings like this in a country place. It was heartwarming and satisfying to the soul.
Before the eggs had been fully cooked, she put the bread to the toaster and turned back to the pan as the eggs and the mushroom mingled together in nice polka dots of browns and yellows with whites around them.
When a pair of arms around her waist made her leap in surprise.
"Owen!" she chided; his chest rumbled against her back when he'd laughed right at the shell of her ear. Everything just made her dumbfounded. His tone implicated that just-got-out-of-bed voice, lazy and unmistakably intimate; his blistering breath enveloped her left ear that raced a sultry sensation down her spine, and she'd quickly scolded herself for even overthinking of it in the first place.
It was honestly hard not to feel like she'd been disarmed; not when they'd just shared their first kiss last night after so many years of hiding their feelings for each other. It was like those moments where you'd been so far away for a long time from someone, and when you'd meet again, you'd understand how much you yearned for them. And then you ought to cherish the times you'd wasted from the circumstances that had carried you apart.
It had been a long time coming.
The kisses were a strong evidence of it. They almost didn't let go, actually. But Paige had chuckled and shoved him off, urging him to go to bed. Climbing upstairs together, they both had an exhilarated smiles on their faces. While all had been said and done, Paige still couldn't quite get over the fact that it just happened. No matter how much she tried, she could never not be awkward.
"Good night, Owen," she said inaudibly, leaning her back against her door like a little girl.
Owen did the same, his room situated across hers, more or less two meters separating them from each other. "Good night, Paige."
When they both didn't move, they laughed simultaneously.
"Okay, I'm gonna go in now," Paige said, before biting her bottom lip to stop a ridiculous smile on her face.
His lips quirked into a wide grin. "You do that."
"You go first."
Owen shook his head amusingly. "No, you go first."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, my lord."
Before she could even step inside, a gentle grasp reeled her back and Owen captured her lips once more. Out of pure instinct, her fingers sunk into his hair, effectively making him let out a breath through his nose as he deepened the kiss.
His lips were just like his usual demeanor. Bold, straightforward, but gentle at the same time. Owen was an adventure and home all at once and she just couldn't get enough of both. At the same time, his kiss indicated how bad his homesick was and she'd welcomed him without a hint of unselfishness.
They both longed for it, anyway.
"So, you're cooking," Owen said sprightly at the present moment, cradling his head with her shoulder blade. "You never fail to surprise me."
She smiled as she scooped up the mushroomed eggs with a turner before placing them carefully on the plate nearby. She let out a light chuckle when Owen never once undid his back-hug from her even in the move. Like he was a monkey afraid to let go of its zookeeper or something.
"Something new everyday, Callaghan." She reached for the toasts and put them on the other plate Santi had prepared aside. "Why don't you just sit back and relax while I prepare this, hm?"
"Yes, my love," he joked, making her eyes roll, and he planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
She finished the pan-cooked breakfast with chili sauce, rocket leaves, additional cooked mushrooms, and placed the sourdough bread on the side with avocado spread she'd already put there for Owen. Paige made two for her, with cherry tomatoes and a small amount of balsamic vinegar and basil.
Once the table had already been set up while ignoring Owen's amused stares, she grabbed her phone and sat down next to him.
"Wow, this is good," Owen babbled through filled mouth, nodding his head in satisfaction.
"Yeah?" She snorted like his statement was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "They're just eggs with mushrooms, Owen. Don't be so dramatic."
"Less is more," he said, taking a bite of his toast. "But what's more is that, you just cooked for me."
"Then?"
"You're moving mountains, Paige," Owen replied, and pinched her cheek, making her pucker her lips in confusion. "I'm moved by this. This is a first. No one has ever done this for me before, you know? So just let me be. I'm overwhelmed, really."
"The things I do for you, Callaghan," she quipped. Owen chuckled.
"I think you got a message," he said, making her look down at her phone and realized it was from Jouwee.
She let out a gasp, picking it up. "She's enjoying Thailand so far. She sent me pictures, look."
Owen smiled when he studied the screen as she leaned closer to him. Jouwee had her arms spread out as she stood near a temple, her mouth wide open in what looked like utter happiness. Another was a group picture of her and the other volunteers she told her about, all from different nationalities based on their skins and hair colors. They all had mountaineer bags clasped around their shoulders, some wearing bandannas and slippers. For once, Jouwee wasn't clothed in dark colors. She had different hues around her that screamed Southeast Asia.
"She seems like a cool person," he mumbled afterwards.
"Yeah," she shrugged, and before biting her avocado toast, she uttered, "She said you have a nice mouth."
He almost immediately tilted his head back, boisterously laughing. "That's funny. What d'you think, though?" He then made a ridiculous expression to emphasize his mouth, squinting his eyes suggestively while pouting his lips or licking around that made her scrunch her nose.
"Um, no, I don't think so."
He chuckled. "You wound me, milady. Although your kiss said otherwise."
She darted him a withering look to conceal her flaming face. "Just eat, Owen."
"Yes, milady. Right away, milady."
She shook her head, twitching her lips in amusement as she watched him happily munching his breakfast.
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That afternoon, before they'd finally leave Lakewood, they went out of the cabin. A snowmobile was parked meters off. Owen had rented it this morning and the person he'd called drove it through the thick snow towards their location.
Her arms automatically embraced him by the waist when they soon rode it to a wide clearing Owen was familiar with ever since. The blanket of snow was thicker and wider there, she thought, the moment they arrived.
She removed her headgear and let her hair loose, readjusting her knitted cap atop her head. It was all silent when Owen suddenly scooped her up from under her knees, only to throw her into the bed of ice.
When she recovered from the surprise, a scowl masked her face. "Sometimes I wonder if you like me at all."
Lips tugging up into a smirk, he jolted his shoulder. "Keep wondering, then. No problem."
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him to start making a snowman. The snowfall was being particularly generous today that she had to keep blinking amidst the snowflakes dropping on her eyelashes, her nose; the rest of her face, really.
Owen made his own next to hers seconds later. She then searched for twigs for the packed snow's arms, nose, and more for Owen. Once they were both done, they stood up and stared down at their snowmen.
His had three tiny twigs atop its head for hair, while hers had a pinecone sitting on it. For whatever reason that was, she had no idea. She just liked to pretend she was good at designing whatsoever–to which Owen laughed at.
"Run."
Paige arched her eyebrow. "What?"
"Just run."
So she did; and she suddenly felt a rather hard object hitting her back. Paige slowed down and looked at Owen, seeing him throwing his arm back with a snowball in his hand.
"Run!"
She didn't. Bending down, she quickly made a snowball while Owen kept on hitting her randomly. "Stop!"
"Step up your game, Paige," he said, just as another snowball came flying against her side.
"Alright, alright," she hurried in between annoyed chuckles, if that was even possible. Owen stopped laughing when her snowball finally made its way to his face and she realized she'd never laughed so hard like that before. "Payback time, you jackass."
She ran heavily through the almost knee-deep snow, simultaneously throwing snowballs for as much as she could. Owen had traces of snow down his face but he didn't care. He was much more engaged in the game to even give a crap.
Her heart was practically bursting at the seams at this. She was so happy it hurt.
The match didn't last for long as they both began to get exhausted. They bent down to their knees, panting for all their lungs were worth. Paige laid down on the bed of snow, all limbs and hair sprawled in odd angles as she stared up at the sky with a huge smile across her face. Her lashes fluttered slenderly to fight off the snow from stinging her eyes and it made them dry somehow.
"Let's do this again next year?" Owen asked when he'd laid down inches away from her. His eyes had a hopeful glint in them, and she nodded all too quickly. She had been thinking the same, of course.
"Sure. I'll look forward to it."
He simply smirked, his arms and legs sweeping open then close that she'd suspected was an attempt to make a snow angel. She mirrored him and beamed up above.
"I hope life is always this simple," he said, still flying flatly. "I feel like we're often too keen on making things done that we forget to slow down. We tend to take things for granted that're just right in front of us. We'd never know what we'd just missed outside the window of the train because we kept staring at our watches, wondering when we'd get to our destination. Life's not about it, you know? It's all about the journey."
"That's true." She paused flying and looked at him. "Has your journey been good to you?"
Owen just smiled. "Not all the time, no. But every time I look at you, I know I'm in the right path."
She stared right through his eyes, the words rendering her speechless for a couple of sinking moments. Like a coin that had just been dropped into the ocean, its course swaying side to side, drowning. Slowly, slowly, and slowly. The moment seemed so infinite as if you were meant to set adrift. But you never were.
You always gravitate back to where you belong. Down at the bed of ocean.
I belong to him.
"Why do you always make me feel so right?"
He rolled off his back so that now he was hovering above her face, one arm caged around her head. She could feel his breathe, all of her could feel his very existence as he inhaled and exhaled and it was beautiful and painful and so blissfully lovely.
"I wish I could answer that. Even I don't know why, Paige." He brushed her hair out of her eyes and stared all over her face. Like really looked. It was as if she was some painting that needed to be interpreted in detail. "I guess you bring out the best in me."
She collared him, nearly sinking half of his face into his turtleneck under his winter coat. She touched his lips out of pure innocence, wondering why they'd let themselves be apart for even a single second. "Girls like pretty words, Owen. Don't say it when you don't mean it," her voice was gentle, quiet. But her implications were loud.
He caught her finger that was tracing his lips so he could entwined his fingers with hers completely. And when he spoke, his breath pounded against her lips at every syllable, every words. "Humans like to listen to the good ones, Paige. All I wish is for you to read my mind about how I am endlessly fascinated by you. Because words are never enough for me to say what I truly meant, anyway. But let me try..." He pressed a kiss on her lips for a second, and she couldn't help but frown when he pulled back almost immediately. Out of the blue, he let out a sigh. "It's impossible. You're way beyond words."
She half-chuckled. "What about actions?"
"Let me try again."
He leaned down into her and caressed her lips with his in the most gentle way possible. He wanted to slow down so perhaps this was it. Butterflies fluttered their wings against her mouth, it felt to her. Oh, they're in my stomach, too.
Her heart was swelling with bursting joy and endless fervor that she just had to withdraw free of his touch. He scowled annoyingly.
"You've made your point, Callaghan."
To his surprise, Paige rolled him to his back so that she'd collapsed into him. While inhibitions were still at the brink of her frazzled edges, she now knew what she wanted. And she now figured how to get her hands onto it.
And when she did kiss him this time, her body alighted. Like an entire city had flickered their lights on, one after the other. By the edges of her vignetted consciousness, her hands had crawled under his head and against his cheek. His hand, at the same time, went up her back until he imprisoned her completely as he angled his head.
She could feel his longing beating against her chest. It was infectious that her already racing heart was now pounding deafeningly in her ears. So fast and so loud that it seemed like she was nothing but an enormous throbbing heart now. That was what it felt like.
The glimmering city inside her very being was now in chaos; the adrenaline in wars had consumed her, the tiny people were scattering wildly as they try to avoid the grenades the city had made for itself, soon leaving nothing but the remains of what the smallest amount of her sanity had left.
They were breathless when they broke apart, and both of her hands locked under his ears so that she was like cradling him by the head. His mouth curled up a mischievous smirk when he gazed at her lips before his lashes flickered back to her eyes.
"I also get your point."
She stifled a chuckle. "We should head back."
He nodded, sliding his hand down her hair. "Yeah."
She stood up first and she looked down at him, her hand outstretched to him with a tender smile across her face. Her cheeks were hurting, really, but she didn't know how to stop.
Owen squinted and hesitated for some reason. Like the sun behind her was hitting in his eyes, but the sky was overcast. It must be the snowfall, she thought.
By the time he got up, she swept her hair to the back and chuckled when a snowflake sat at the tip of Owen's nose. He was staring at her unblinkingly and he even seemed bewildered when she brushed the flake out of his face.
She trodden her way to the snowmobile. When she didn't hear his footsteps crunching through the snow, her eyebrows pinched together; before looking at him, still standing there completely frozen.
"Owen?"
He blinked, and panted like he just got resurrected. And then he swiftly ran to her, if he could ever go fast enough against the snow, anyway.
She resumed on walking to the snowmobile as the snowfall seemed to intensify. Paige looked up and chuckled, spinning and spinning around with her arms wide open.
She giggled like the innocent girl she'd always been.
"I love you."
She froze.
And turned to him. And he stood there completely still, too. There was a stunned silence lingering in the air and it was impossible to ignore it. It was thicker than the snow, freezing than the weather.
Owen slowly walked to her, as she gathered her bearings at his confession. He hurried when he was close, quickly pulled her into his chest and pressed her head with his hand.
His heart was pounding again, she could hear everything. It was unmistakable. Her chest was ripping apart, too. Because feelings–they were too much sometimes.
"What the hell? I love you. How did I not realize it sooner?"
He pulled her back so he could gaze down at her face. She clutched his jacket and a tear fell down on her cheek. Had she not felt it, she would never know that she was sobbing.
He loved her. It was what she was wishing for for so many years long before. It felt like a dream.
"Owen..."
He closed his eyes as he suddenly pressed his forehead to hers, only to bend his knees to lock his lips with hers for a moment. She ran the pads of her thumbs across his cheekbones and smiled through her tears.
"I'm saying this because I don't want us to leave this place without telling you. It feels like it's the right moment and I can't wait for long. I love you, Paige. You own everything of me even before I knew it."
She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist so tightly like she could never hold him this much ever. Owen was several inches taller so he always liked to kiss the top of her head. So he did it again.
Her ear was pressed against his chest. And she closed her eyes at the comforting thought that it was beating for her alone.