Sothing shifted.
Phei couldn't pinpoint when it happened—sowhere between the teorite cookie and her third rambling apology for rambling—but sothing in his chest just... unclenched.
The walls he kept so carefully maintained. The constant calculation. The awareness of every angle, every threat, every way soone could hurt him if he let them close enough.
It all just... quieted.
Maya was laughing at sothing she'd said—sothing about how she'd once tried to make brownies and sohow set off the fire alarm in three different rooms simultaneously, which shouldn't have been physically possible but "apparently I'm just that talented at disaster"
—and the sound of it, bright and unguarded and completely unselfconscious, made him want to do sothing stupid.
So, he did.
"Co on."
Maya blinked mid-laugh. "What?"
Phei stood up from the fire pit bench, brushed cookie crumbs off his uniform pants, and held out his hand.
"Let's walk."
"Walk?" She stared at his hand like it might bite her. "Walk where?"
"Does it matter?"
"I an, kind of? What if we walk sowhere dangerous? What if there's, I don't know, bears? Do they have bears in these woods? They're fancy woods so maybe they have fancy bears. Organic bears. Free-range—"
"Maya."
"Right. Walking. Yes. I can walk. I'm very good at walking. Been doing it since I was like, one. Maybe earlier. I was apparently a very ambitious baby."
She took his hand.
Her fingers were warm and slightly sticky from the apple slices—she'd been nervous-eating while he wasn't looking—and they trembled just slightly as they curled around his.
"Your hand is shaking," Phei said.
"No it's not."
"It definitely is."
"That's just... vibrations. From the earth. Tectonic activity. Very scientific."
"We're not on a fault line."
"How do you know? Are you a geologist? Have you personally surveyed this exact patch of overpriced forest?"
Phei laughed.
Actually laughed—not the controlled chuckle he gave Sierra when she said sothing clever, not the dark amusent he felt watching his enemies squirm.
A real laugh, surprised out of him, rough at the edges because he couldn't rember the last ti he'd made that sound, yet sweet to hear thanks to his new voice.
Maya's eyes went wide. "Oh my god."
"What?"
"You laughed. Like, actually laughed. I didn't know you could do that. I thought maybe your face was just stuck in that whole—" She gestured vaguely at him. "Brooding mysterious hot guy configuration."
"Brooding mysterious hot guy configuration?"
"You know what I an! The jawline thing. The eyes thing. The 'I have dark secrets and perfect cheekbones' thing."
She was blushing now, silver hair catching the dappled light filtering through the trees as they walked deeper into the forest. "Not that I've been studying your face or anything. That would be weird. I'm not weird. I'm just... observant. Attentively observant. In a normal, non-stalker way."
"You changed your entire hair color because you saw look at a picture for five seconds."
"That's—" She sputtered. "That's different!"
"How?"
"Because I wasn't studying your face! I was studying your phone! Completely different thing! Your phone doesn't have cheekbones!"
Phei stopped walking.
Maya stumbled to a halt beside him, nearly tripping over a decorative root that the groundskeepers had probably artfully arranged.
"What? Why did we stop? Did you see a bear? I knew there would be bears—"
He reached out and tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear.
The gesture was gentle. Loving and unconscious. His fingertips brushing the curve of her ear, trailing down to her jaw, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him.
Maya's rambling died in her throat.
"You're cute when you're flustered," Phei said.
Her face went nuclear.
Not pink. Not red. Full crimson, spreading from her cheeks down her neck to where her collar started, probably continuing under her blouse where he couldn't see. Her eyes were so wide he could count the gold flecks in them.
"I—you—that's—"
"Use your words, Maya."
"I don't HAVE words! You broke them! You broke all my words with your—your FACE and your HAND and—"
He leaned closer.
Her breath caught.
His lips brushed her cheek—soft, barely there, more suggestion than kiss—and lingered for just a mont before pulling back.
Maya made a sound like a teakettle reaching boiling point.
"Oh my god." Her hands flew up to cover her face. "Oh my GOD. You can't just—you can't DO that—I wasn't PREPARED—"
"Prepared for what?"
"For YOU! For any of this! I had a whole plan, you know. A whole Maya-gets-to-know-Phei-slowly-over-several-months plan. It involved carefully curated conversations and strategic cookie-giving and absolutely NO face-touching or cheek-kissing or—"
She peeked through her fingers. He was smiling. Actually smiling, not smirking, not the predatory thing he used on Sierra.
"You're enjoying this," she accused.
"A little."
"A LITTLE? You're TORTURING !"
"I thought you said you liked my voice."
"I do! That's the PROBLEM! Everything you say sounds like—like velvet wrapped around sin and I can't THINK when you're looking at like that—"
"Like what?"
"Like I'm—like I'm sothing worth looking at! Nobody looks at like that! I'm Maya! I'm the rambling disaster who sets kitchens on fire and trips at weddings! I'm not—I don't—"
Phei reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face.
"You are worth looking at," he said. Simply. Honestly. No manipulation, no calculated seduction. Just truth.
Maya's eyes went glassy.
"Don't you DARE make cry," she whispered fiercely. "I will never forgive you if you make cry with your stupid beautiful words and your stupid beautiful face and your stupid—"
He kissed her other cheek.
She squeaked—actually squeaked, like a dog toy being stepped on—and yanked her hands free.
"NOPE. No. I can't. I'm leaving. I'm running away now. Goodbye."
And she did.
She turned and bolted deeper into the forest, silver hair streaming behind her like a banner of surrender, her laughter floating back through the trees.
Phei stood there for a mont, watching her go.
When was the last ti soone ran away from because they were too happy?
Never. The answer was never.
"Maya, wait..."
He took off after her.
Maya was fast—volleyball tryouts in freshman year, she'd told him later, before she discovered she had "the hand-eye coordination of a concussed penguin"—but Phei was faster.
The training was paying off. His legs didn't burn the way they would have a week ago. His breath ca easy.
And there was sothing almost primal about chasing her through the dappled light, watching her glance back with those wide eyes, hearing her shriek-laugh when she realized he was gaining.
"No fair!" she called over her shoulder. "Your legs are longer!"
"Then run faster!"
"I'm TRYING! These shoes weren't made for—TREE!"
She swerved to avoid an oak that had probably been there since Paradise was founded, overcorrected, and her ankle caught on a root.
Ti slowed.
Phei saw her start to fall—arms pinwheeling, silver hair fanning out, that expression of pure "oh no" crossing her features—and his body moved before his brain caught up.
He lunged forward, caught her around the waist, and montum did the rest.
They went down together.
Phei twisted at the last second, taking the impact on his shoulder and back, Maya landing on top of him with an "oof" that pushed all the air out of his lungs.
For a mont, neither of them moved.
They'd landed in a small clearing—probably another deliberately manicured space, because nothing in this fucking forest was accidental—where the grass was soft and thick as carpet, wildflowers dotting the edges in carefully randomized arrangents.
Maya lifted her head.
Her face was inches from his. Silver hair cascaded around them like a curtain. Her cheeks were flushed from running, lips parted, eyes wide and golden-brown and absolutely terrified.
"Are you okay?" she whispered. "Oh god, I fell on you. I'm so sorry. I'm a disaster. I told you I was a disaster. We should have stayed at the fire pit. Fire pits don't have roots. Fire pits are safe—"
"Maya."
"Yeah?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Because I'm not light. I an I'm not heavy either. I'm like, dium? Average weight for my height? But still, gravity is a thing, and I definitely just used you as a landing pad—"
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