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The skies had changed, the clouds dipping into their own reflection in the water below. As the sky soaked up the calm waves, its color faded into a soothing purple. The burning sun glowed orange across the ocean like a fire.
Connie could appreciate the gorgeous nature of sunsets. The warm pinks and yellows slowly bled into drowsy blues, and most of the world followed suit, lulled to sleep by the blinking stars scattered about.
Unfortunately, Connie had never truly found that ease.
Since her childhood, Connie had an awful time attempting to fall asleep. No matter how exhausted she was, she still found her mind abuzz. She tried drinking warm milk, listening to calming music, and endless breathing exercises, yet she would lie awake, utterly miserable.
So, Connie had gotten fairly acquainted with watching the sunset. In some cases, she had gotten just as friendly watching the sunrise, but it was never nearly as pretty or satisfying.
“Connie? Are you okay?” A familiar voice snapped her from her daze. She turned to meet the concerned gaze of her Steven. They sat on his bed, watching an old movie on his TV. She couldn’t remember it’s name, or what it was about, or how long they’d been watching…
But she did finally remember that she was being asked a question. “Yeah, sorry. I just was watching the sunset.” She admits.
The boy shuffles next to her, getting a closer look at the beach whilst pressing his side against hers. The touch is warm and welcome. “Oh, woah! That’s so pretty!” He gaped.
He was right, it was a breathtaking image, with the waves barely dancing up to the sky, the sun reaching back, longing for its promised rest. This was probably one of the prettier ones she’d seen, and she almost wished she could take a picture.
“Well, why don’t we?” He asked. He scooped up the remote, clicking the movie to a pause. The characters onscreen were locked in an unnatural freeze, their faces contorted in unfinished expressions and bodies blurry from motion.
Connie’s brain felt like those characters for a second.
Steven stood and excitedly rummaged around the room, flitting from place to place as if he was searching for something. “If you want a picture, we can use my polaroid!” He explained. “I’ve been waiting for a good time to use it,”
The girl nodded, running her fingers along the soft comforter on Steven’s bed. His celebratory ‘a-ha!’ alerted her that the search was successful. Sure enough, in his hands was a pastel pink polaroid camera. “Let’s go!” He cheered, his hand clasping Connie’s.
He led her (dragged her) down the stairs. In a blink, they were teleported from the living room to Obsidian’s hulking, sturdy palm.
The soft buzz of the dryer and the lapping of waves surrounded Connie, flooding her system with the sticky sweet feeling of nostalgia.
“Woah..” Steven’s awe was palpable, and he quickly snapped a picture of the watercolor painting displayed across the sky. His chubby fingers plucked the film, eagerly flapping it in the air.
Connie took a deep breath, thankful for the soft scent of sea salt and rain that filled her lungs. The juicy taste of strawberry tugs the back of her mind, teasing.
Another snap! brings her back to the present, and Steven is behind her, waving about another piece of film. “Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “You just looked so.. calm,”
For a moment, Connie doesn’t put two and two together, instead opting to simply stare at her friend.
He softly pushes the picture into her hands, and the image develops before her eyes. It’s a picture of herself, sitting with her legs kicked out in front of her. Her eyes are closed- not scrunched closed though. No, they’re just shut. They’re shut and she has the warm kaleidoscope of colors shining on her skin.
A hand is on her shoulder, grounding her again. “Connie, are you okay?” His voice is cozy and buttery. She could listen to him talk for days.
But instead of asking him to talk for days non-stop, she nods with a simple hum. “Are you sure?” He asks. Steven has one hand on each of her shoulders, his fingers lightly tapping. “You’ve been zoning out a lot recently, and when I ask you stuff you don’t always answer, and you get this blank look on your face.”
Connie is about to shut him down again, reject his support, but then she looks at the polaroid in her hands. She hasn’t felt that calm in a long time, and she kind of wants it back.
She wants to come home after a stressful day and take a nap without feeling guilty.
She wants to feel the sun on her skin everyday, no matter where she is.
She wants to sit on a giant rock in the shape of a hand and play violin mindlessly without ruminating over homework or tests or anything .
And stars, she wants to sleep. She wants to lie down and just exist and not do anything more. She wants to lie there and stay there for as long as humanly possible without falling comatose.
“Well, I definitely don’t recommend going into a coma,” Steven chuckles lightly.
Connie turns to him and blinks. “That’s like the third time you’ve done that.”
“Done what?”
“Read my mind.”
It’s Steven’s turn to blink.
Then he smiles at her, and begins to stand. “Okay, I think I got it now. You stay right here, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Connie watches him stand proudly on the warp pad, instinctively lifting his right arm in a pose. She remembers him doing this since he was twelve.
The sun has met the horizon, it did a while ago. It’s beginning to descend beneath their line of sight, and honestly, Connie is sad to see it go.
She scoots forward an inch or two, trying to absorb all of the light and warmth from the sun that she physically can. It’s really starting to get cold, or maybe she’s only now starting to notice.
Suddenly her plan actually works, because she’s enveloped in a soft heat, wrapping her up and holding her close. She tried to crawl even closer to the rays, but she’s stuck.
“Hold on, Connie! You’re shivering,” Steven is laughing. She missed his laugh.
When she looks at him, his face is slightly pink, and he’s missing his jacket. But in its place is a big throw pillow, and a soft blanket. They’re likely taken straight from Steven’s bed. He spreads the blanket atop the chilled stone, and the pillow goes in his lap. Connie understands almost immediately.
She falls wordlessly into his space, melting against him as time bleeds away.
In the next few minutes, Connie has snuggled against Steven, his calloused fingers slowly running through her hair. She’s burritoed in the blanket ( and in Steven’s jacket. It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize that). She isn’t proud to admit that she preens at every ministration.
Steven is humming something. She can’t figure out what it is, but it’s simple and soft. It’s notes are flowing and smooth, carrying Connie carefully across the beach and into the clouds. Her breathing has mellowed out, her shoulders and jaw sore from finally loosening.
Steven is saying something, his voice adding to the lullaby he was singing. She knows she should probably listen, but she’s too close to the temptress of slumber. As his melodic words melt the world away, she opens her eyes once more. She barely keeps them open long enough to watch the last of the sun slip behind the sea, and she too gratefully accepts her temporary bliss.