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Sana smiled, as she always did, at the turn of the day when she’d spot the girl on the other side of the ocean, when the sky dramatically curtained itself in black. When it was her time to rest.
The girl was elegant, poised, and, above all else, utterly luminescent. Always seated upon a stump beneath the pines of the forest shadowing the cliffside at the other end, wrists crossed over her lap as the owls hooted and the spiders spun their webs inside the bushes. This day, she wore a solid black gown that differed from the two-toned black and white getups she’d been blessing Sana’s eyes with the last couple of weeks. Still, she was beautiful, as though the stars twinkled around her at the mere notion of a breath.
She wasn’t sure how long it’d been that she’d been peeking at this other ethereal being — days, months, decades, eons — but she couldn’t bear it any longer. Sana was too full of energy, flares of hot excitement practically licking at her legs at the sight of things that excited her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t content on her end of the water, where the flower meadowed hills married with the sands of the shore. But, for as wonderful as it was to bloom wildflowers and mushrooms beneath her feet as she skipped across the grass or as humbling as it was to sing with the goldfinches and play with the ladybugs, she couldn’t help the curiosity that burned inside of her at the sight of this girl who turned up whenever it was time for Sana to sleep. It almost made her restless.
This day, she’d take the first step.
Bounding forward in her yellow sundress, Sana raised the earth and parted away a path in the sea toward the cliffside at the other end. Halfway, however, she stopped. Instead, she rose the sands and carved the stones in order to make a small circle of land right there in the middle of the ocean. She figured there was always room for another island.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she grinned and called out toward the pines. “You there!”
Thankfully, it didn’t require more to gain the girl’s attention. Her eyes opened in surprise, her wrists almost flying out of position when she flinched upon the stool. And then her gaze met Sana’s, miles away.
“Me, here?!” Her voice was soft, even as she projected. Sana wondered if it was strange to think that a voice could be pretty, but then she remembered that she had recently asked the clouds of the things they thought, and she decided that perhaps she’s thought of stranger things than this before.
“Yes!” Sana fought the urge to giggle, grinning wide and bright. “Will you meet me here, halfway?!”
At first, the girl didn’t answer. She simply stared, wide-eyed and with eyebrows that rose with questions written beneath their arches. But she inevitably stood, and the water rose to the cliff’s edge where she waited. She stepped upon the surface, and the wave carried her down and across to where Sana was, the ocean breeze billowing her dress. The foam lapped at the boulders along the edge of the tiny island Sana had created as the girl stepped onto it, and the water receded back into the ocean.
“What an entrance,” Sana commented, unable to relax the muscles in her face as the girl stood before her. Not that it wasn’t clear to her before, but Sana easily found that she was even more beautiful up close.
A blush tinted her pale cheeks. “It’s just water.”
“And this is just dirt.” Sana wriggled her toes in the blades of grass beneath, and an evening primrose sprouted. “What’s your name?”
“Mina.” Despite closing the miles of distance between them, Mina’s voice was somehow softer at only a few feet apart. “Yours?”
“Sana. Your name is pretty, like you.”
Mina coughed, averting her gaze. “You have a nice name as well.” Her hands fidgeted at the front of her dress. “Is there a reason you called me over? That you did this?” She gestured toward the long path of land that Sana had created, as well as gesturing around the island.
“I was wondering if we could meet here and talk.”
“We’re talking now.”
Sana giggled. “From now on, I mean.”
“Oh.” Mina’s lips cracked into a smile for a fleeting moment, perhaps out of embarrassment. “Why?”
“You always show up just as I’m about to rest and, when I rise, you’re already gone. I’d like to see you for a little while longer.”
“You’re awake now.” Mina’s brow furrowed. “You stayed up for me?”
“Perhaps,” Sana said, bashful as she folded her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels.
There was a pause. Sana wasn’t sure how long a pause was meant to last, but the water rippled as the fishes made their way and the wind sang its songs against the leaves that danced on the branches.
“Then we can meet and talk,” said Mina, finally. “And I will return the favor by staying up for you so that we may talk twice a day.”
Sana practically bounced on the spot, beaming. “In exchange for your time, I’ll give you this smile.”
At that, Mina grinned with rosy cheeks, and it was gummy and dazzling. “Good.”
The days that came were ageless. Twice a day, Sana and Mina met halfway across the ocean and chatted on the small, round patch of the earth. They’d whittled wood into garden chairs and a table, chiseled stone into cups, and bagged herbs to make tea.
It was easy to speak of the things they found beautiful, with Mina appreciating the veil of peaceful quiet that fell upon the night and Sana admiring the way that the dew-dropped grass was always there to greet her in the morning.
When Mina would wake, Sana would meet her with a sunflower and tuck it into her hair. In turn, when Sana would wake, Mina would bestow upon her a moonflower and tuck it behind her ear. And, somewhere along the line amidst these exchanges, it became easier to speak of one another as well.
Sana had always been more forward, having always pulled a chair out for Mina or complimenting her beauty. But she found herself hanging onto the behaviorisms, instead beginning to speak of the way she quietly watched with a smile whenever Mina’s thumb rubbed against a knuckle in worry, whether it be because of an injured opossum that night or because she had discovered that a bat she’d befriended had changed caves. Sana’s eyes often lingered on the way that Mina had trouble meeting her eyes when complimented, when shown appreciation through words or actions. Sana even liked the way that Mina would giggle softly to herself before being able to fully tell Sana about a funny thing that had happened to her earlier while she’d been asleep.
And Mina had warmed up because of Sana, it seemed. She had started a habit of referring to Sana as radiant off-handedly, whether it be about her smile or her laugh, and even Sana couldn’t help but feel strangely warm in those moments. Mina would describe Sana as being a light in her routine, as something bright and beaming with energy and hope that Mina wasn’t quite accustomed to but could easily find herself getting used to. She had always been used to staying on that stump in the forest along the cliff, keeping her place and soaking in the quiet of nature, but Sana, with all of her clumsiness and loud burst of love for the earth, was refreshing. At least, that was what she had told Sana when the latter had reminded Mina that she didn’t have to meet her every day if she didn’t want to.
Most days were filled with smiles and giggles. Some days were filled with deep conversation and time spent reflecting upon their surroundings. Rarely, there were days touched by sorrowful reminiscing and blanketed by a hush. But all days were good days, one way or the other, as long as they met.
Sana had always looked toward the girl on the cliff, whose dress changed with every month and who always stayed so still despite how she glowed in the dark of night. But now that she’d been up close and real, Sana couldn’t help feeling as though she were falling into a deep crater of something she thought she’d only ever feel for the roses and butterflies.
“I wish I could still see you even as I fall asleep,” said Sana one day, restless in her mind once again. Mina had woken early, like always, to meet her, and sometimes Sana couldn’t help but already miss her even as she looked upon her.
Mina’s eyes lingered on her from across the table for a moment before softly saying, “Me too.”
Silence followed for a little while, and Sana watched the way that the breeze gently blew at the petals of the sunflower in Mina’s hair. Mina was doing a poor job at pretending not to notice and a poor job at resisting the streaks of heat that colored her cheeks. Sana tried not to relish in it too much.
Mina cleared her throat. “What is it?”
“I love you, I think.”
Widened eyes. “You think?”
Sana chuckled, subtly relieved. “Would you rather I know?
“How could you know?”
“We could find out,” Sana lilted, smirking. She stood, taking the few steps between them to help Mina out of her chair, holding both of her hands gently with her own. They felt cool to the touch.
Mina’s laugh was soft and shy. “Isn’t it enough to wish to see me as you fall asleep?
“I once thought that seeing you was enough,” Sana whispered, tucking a hair behind Mina’s ear. “And then I thought that meeting and speaking with you would be more than enough.” Her fingers lingered by Mina’s ear, until she slid her palm to cup the side of her face instead. “And now I can’t help but think—can’t help but wonder—if kissing you will finally cure this restlessness.”
Mina’s eyelids fluttered, her gaze falling upon Sana’s mouth. “What’s there to cure?”
“The aching, the burning.”
“I can cool you down.”
“Who’s to say things won’t get hotter?” Sana winked, only to whine when Mina lightly smacked her on the shoulder. Her hand settled for a moment, her thumb rubbing Sana’s shoulder until it slid up to cup her neck.
Mina smiled bashfully. “If you kiss me, I will give you the gift of seeing me as you sleep. And then, in return, you’ll do the same for me when it’s my time to rest.” She rolled her eyes fondly when Sana’s grin widened at that. “I want to be reminded of you as I sleep, too.”
“No time to lose, then.” Sana leaned in, breath hot as she whispered against the surface of Mina’s lips. “I’ll burn this feeling onto you so that you’ll feel me even when I’m gone.”
Sana could feel Mina inhale deeply as the distance ceased to exist between them, the flares inside of her igniting at the feeling of Mina’s cool lips pressing against her own. Sana had always loved nature; always loved the way the petals would wave good morning to her and the way that the sheep bleated on a warm day, but there was no force of nature quite like kissing Mina—like the tides were turning inside of her chest, like nature was rooting for them to marry their radiance and luminescence. And when Mina shuddered against her, the sky burst into swirls of golds and oranges and purples and blues.
Mina pulled away first, just barely. “For you.”
Sana blushed, staring up at the beauty of the new sky, at the way that the clouds and stars finally began to talk amongst themselves. “It’s brilliant.”
“The night will be dark again once you’ve slept, but for now you will have this reminder of me. And later, I will kiss you and you will do the same.”
“I think I can manage that,” Sana whispered, and she leaned in again, beaming as she felt Mina smile into her mouth.
It’d need a name, this wonderous new thing of nature that Mina had painted into the sky. But for now, Sana could only focus on the tilt of Mina’s face, on the way that she pulled Sana more deeply into the kiss by the neck. And Sana wondered how she ever could have waited to speak to that girl on the cliff, if it had meant that this island would inevitably become her home in her heart.
Sana pulled away to breathe. “I love you, I know it.”
“I love you, I promise it,” Mina said back, and the world began to spin.