Page 54 of Prima
At sunset he pours them each a thimbleful of rice liquor—he swiped the other tiny shot glass the last time he passed throughThe Blue Sampan’slounging area. “Ever since I first saw you smile, all those years ago, I’ve—I’ve wanted you to take me home with you.”
To be reminded that there is such a thing as inherent joy in the world, in spite of everything. Inherent joy, inherent beauty, inherent reasons to be alive to the wonder and numinosity of the universe.
“Once my status has been processed and I’m allowed to move about in New Ryukyu—will you?”
She frowns slightly. He becomes unaccountably nervous.
“My place is small—New Ryukyu doesn’t pay its Sea Witches very much. But for as long as I’ve had it, I’ve had a pair of house slippers waiting for you. So you’re welcome anytime.”
His tension drains away, replaced by that lightness of being he hopes to know very well in the coming years.
"On the other hand,” she continues, “I personally have been looking forward to spending a lot of time atyourplace.”
“Myplace?”
Truly, will wonders never cease?
“Your mother has bought and kitted out a house for you, bigger and newer than mine, and with much, much better views.” She grins. “And I already put a pair of my house slippers there, right next to yours.”
She lifts her glass, still grinning. “To us. I don’t know how easy I’ll be to live with, but I promise to always save a smile for you.”
He lifts his glass and clinks it with hers. “To us. You never need to smile for me. But when you smile for yourself, I would like to be there. Always.”
They drain their glasses and show the empty vessels to each other. He thinks back to that night ten years ago, the wishes they sealed in that moment of great innocence and audacity.
She gazes at him a long time, then leans in and kisses him. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”
He basks in grace—so much grace—and kisses her right back. “In every way that counts.”
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