Chapter 14: A Day That Didn’t Need Words
737 Words
Arian didn’t tell her where they were going.
He just showed up early on Saturday morning with a paper bag of pastries, two thermoses of tea, and a grin that made Eliana forget the rest of the world.
“You trust me?” he asked as he handed her a helmet.
“Usually,” she teased. “But now I’m questioning my life choices.”
He laughed and helped her onto the back of the rented scooter. It was old and slightly dented, but the sky was clear, the breeze soft, and the world felt like it was theirs alone.
They drove past city limits, through winding roads and patches of wildflowers, Eliana’s arms around him and her head resting against his back.
It was a perfect kind of silence—the kind filled with music only they could hear.
An hour later, they reached a small lakeside town neither of them had been to before. It was quiet, dotted with little bookshops, a pier, and an ice cream stand shaped like a lighthouse.
Eliana raised an eyebrow. “Did you plan this?”
Arian smiled. “I Googled ‘places that feel like a dream but still exist.’ This was number three.”
She shook her head, laughing. “You’re such a weirdo.”
“Your weirdo,” he said, handing her a strawberry cone.
They walked along the pier, fingers laced, sharing bites of each other’s flavors and pointing out boats they’d pretend to own someday. Arian paused by the water, pulled out his sketchbook, and sat cross-legged on the dock.
Eliana watched him for a moment, then sat beside him, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Draw me?” she asked.
He looked up, surprised.
“You’ve never asked before.”
“I want to see how you see me.”
He didn’t speak—just nodded, smiling a little too wide, and began to sketch.
The breeze played with her scarf, and she sat still, quiet and open, letting him capture her. Not just her face, but her calm. Her softness. The way she looked when she trusted someone completely.
After fifteen minutes, he flipped the book around.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was real.
Her hair was messier than usual. Her eyes looked deeper, like they carried all the words she never said. Her smile was gentle, not posed.
“This is how I see you,” he said.
She stared at the sketch. Then at him. And without thinking, she kissed his cheek.
“I love the way you see me.”
They wandered into a secondhand bookstore after lunch—dusty shelves, creaky floors, the air smelling like old pages and ink. Arian disappeared into the poetry aisle. Eliana headed straight for the fiction section.
She found a copy of Jane Eyre, her favorite, worn and faded.
Tucked inside the cover was an old postcard from years ago. On it was a single line in neat cursive:
You are never truly lost if someone remembers your name.
She smiled, holding it to her chest.
When they met back at the counter, Arian handed her a small package wrapped in brown paper.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Open it when we’re back at campus,” he said. “Promise?”
She nodded.
They rode back just as the sun dipped below the hills, turning the sky molten orange and soft pink. Eliana held onto him tightly, not because she was afraid of falling, but because she didn’t want to let go of the feeling.
When they reached her dorm, she opened the package.
Inside was a tiny leather notebook.
On the first page, he’d written:
For all the words you haven’t said yet.
Fill it. I want to read your mind someday.
— A
She looked up at him, heart full.
“I thought today was a getaway,” she said.
“It was,” he replied. “But I also wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a perfect day.”
Eliana stepped forward, wrapped her arms around him, and whispered:
“This was the kind of day I’ll reread in my mind forever.”
And that night, as she wrote the first sentence in the little notebook, she realized something:
She wasn’t afraid of forever anymore.
Because with him, forever didn’t feel like a promise.
It felt like a page waiting to be written.
- Writer
