FIVE YEARS BETWEEN US

The last time Celestia had stood in front of this house, she had been seventeen. Back then, the gate had been painted blue. Now it was white. The garden looked smaller than she remembered, though that was probably because she had grown older while her memories had stayed exactly where she had left them. Eight years. Eight years since she had last walked through this gate. Eight years since she had seen the people who had once occupied almost every summer of her childhood. Celestia tightened her fingers around the handle of her suitcase and looked up at the familiar house. For a moment, she simply stood there. The windows. The garden. The small stone path leading to the front door. It was strange how a place could feel both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. "Well," she murmured to herself. "This isn't awkward at all." Moving to another city for her second degree had sounded exciting when she first received her acceptance letter. A fresh start. A new university. A new city. A new version of herself. What she hadn't expected was for her parents to immediately decide that she shouldn't live alone. Apparently, being twenty-five years old and perfectly capable of surviving on her own wasn't enough to convince them. So here she was. Standing outside her relatives' house. With two suitcases. A backpack. And absolutely no idea what she was doing with her life. Before she could ring the bell, the front door opened. "CELESTIA!" She barely had time to react. Luna came running down the path. Celestia laughed just before Luna crashed into her. "You're going to kill me!" "I missed you!" "You saw me eight years ago!" "Exactly!" Luna pulled back, her hands still holding Celestia's arms. For a second, they simply looked at each other. Then Luna's eyes filled. Celestia's smile softened. "Oh, don't start." "I'm not crying." "You are absolutely crying." "It's the wind." "There is no wind." Luna laughed through her tears and pulled her into another hug. And suddenly, eight years didn't feel so long anymore. "Look who finally decided to come home." Celestia froze. Her head lifted. There, standing in the doorway, were Luna's parents. Her aunt was already wiping tears from her eyes. Her uncle stood beside her with the warmest smile Celestia remembered from childhood. Celestia's throat tightened. "Auntie..." That was all it took. Her aunt came down the steps and wrapped her arms around Celestia. "My girl," she whispered. "Look at you." Celestia laughed softly, but her eyes burned. "You haven't changed." "That's a lie. I have more grey hair now." "Because of Luna?" "Mostly." "Mom!" Everyone laughed. Then her uncle stepped forward and gently pulled Celestia into a hug. "Welcome home, Celestia." Home. Such a simple word. Yet it settled somewhere deep inside her chest. She hadn't expected to feel emotional. She definitely hadn't expected to feel this loved before she had even stepped inside. But suddenly, standing there surrounded by familiar faces, Celestia remembered. This hadn't always been her relatives' house. When she was younger, it had been her second home. Luna's mother cupped her face. "You're too thin." Celestia laughed. "Hello to you too." "You're staying here now. We'll fix that." "Mom's already planning your meals," Luna whispered. "I heard that." "Good." Celestia shook her head, smiling. Her uncle picked up one of her suitcases. "Come inside before your aunt starts crying again." "I am not crying." "Of course not." The moment Celestia stepped through the front door, something inside her softened. The familiar smell. The wooden floors. The photographs along the walls. Even the small scratch near the staircase that Luna had once blamed on her dog. Everything brought something back. A summer afternoon. A childhood argument. A birthday. A sleepover. A younger version of herself running through these hallways without a single worry about the future. "Nothing has changed," Celestia whispered. Luna looked over her shoulder. "Some things have." Celestia narrowed her eyes. "Why does everyone suddenly sound mysterious?" Luna smiled. "You'll see." They spent the next few minutes talking over one another. Her aunt wanted to know about the journey. Her uncle asked about university. Luna kept interrupting everyone to tell embarrassing stories from Celestia's childhood. And Celestia laughed more in those few minutes than she had during the entire journey. For the first time since leaving home that morning, she didn't feel like she was moving somewhere unfamiliar. She felt like she was returning. --- "Come on," Luna said eventually, grabbing one of Celestia's hands. "I'll show you your room." "Finally. I was beginning to think you planned on making me sleep on the sofa." Her aunt looked offended. "I would never." "She has been preparing your room for two weeks," Luna said. "Two weeks?" Her aunt smiled proudly. "You're going to be studying here for a long time. I wanted you to feel comfortable." Celestia's heart warmed. Luna dragged her upstairs. The hallway looked almost exactly as Celestia remembered it. Her fingers brushed against the wooden railing as she climbed. "You remember when you fell down here?" Luna asked. "I did not fall." "You missed a step." "I was pushed." "By who?" Celestia pointed at her. "You." Luna gasped. "Slander." Celestia laughed. They reached the end of the hallway. Luna opened a door. "Here." Celestia stepped inside. And stopped. The room was beautiful. Not like a guest room. Like someone had prepared it specifically for her. Soft curtains framed the window. A desk stood near the sunlight. Bookshelves lined one wall. There was a comfortable bed, a reading chair, and small details everywhere that somehow made the room feel warm. Celestia slowly turned around. "You guys did all this for me?" Luna leaned against the door. "Mom went a little crazy." "I did not!" Her mother's voice floated up from downstairs. Celestia laughed. Then she saw them. On the bedside table sat a glass vase. Filled with tulip flowers. Celestia's smile disappeared. She walked closer. Her fingertips hovered above the petals. "These are..." Luna followed her gaze. Then frowned. "What?" Celestia looked back at her. "My favourite flowers." Luna blinked. "Those?" "Yes." Celestia carefully touched one of the petals. "They're my favourite." Luna looked genuinely confused. "Wait." "What?" "I didn't put those there." Celestia turned. "Your mom?" "I don't think so." Luna walked toward the vase. "Mom asked me yesterday what flowers you liked." Celestia's eyebrows rose. "And?" "I told her I had no idea." "Thanks." "It has been eight years!" Celestia crossed her arms. "Who put them here?" Luna stared at the flowers. "I honestly don't know." For some reason, that answer left a strange feeling inside Celestia. Not fear. Not discomfort. Just curiosity. She looked at the flowers again. Eight years ago, almost no one knew they were her favourite. She had mentioned it only once. Maybe twice. And certainly not to A sound interrupted her thoughts. A door closing somewhere down the hallway. Luna's head turned. "Oh." Celestia looked at her. "What?" "Nothing." "Why do you keep saying that?" Luna smiled. "Come downstairs. You can unpack later." "Who's upstairs?" "My brother." Celestia paused. "Your brother?" "Yes." Celestia stared at her. Luna stared back. "You remember Evan." Of course, she remembered Evan. Well. Sort of. Eight years ago, Evan had been twelve Quiet. Awkward. Painfully shy. He rarely spoke to Celestia unless Luna forced him to. And whenever Celestia looked directly at him, he would immediately look somewhere else. She remembered a boy with messy hair who spent most of his time hiding behind closed doors and answering questions with one-word replies. "Your shy little brother?" Celestia asked. Luna rolled her eyes. "He's not little anymore." Celestia laughed. "Everyone says that about their younger siblings." "I'm serious." "I'm sure he's grown three centimetres and now thinks he's important." Luna's smile became suspicious. "Something like that." Celestia narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?" But Luna had already grabbed her hand. "Come on." They stepped into the hallway. Celestia followed Luna toward the staircase. Then Luna suddenly stopped. "What?" Luna didn't answer. She was looking downstairs. Celestia followed her gaze. And everything seemed to slow. A figure stood near the bottom of the staircase. Celestia couldn't see his face clearly at first. Only the outline of him. Tall. Broad shoulders. One hand resting against the wooden railing. The afternoon sunlight spilled through the large window behind him, turning the edges of his dark hair gold. He was looking down at his phone. Luna began walking again. Celestia followed. Halfway down the stairs, one of Celestia's suitcase wheels caught against the edge of a step. "Oh-- The suitcase tipped. Celestia lost her balance. For one terrible second, the world tilted. Then a hand caught her. Firmly. Around her waist. Her breath disappeared. The suitcase hit the floor. But she didn't. Celestia slowly opened her eyes. And found herself staring directly into his. Everything inside her went still. He was beautiful. That was the first thought that entered her mind. Not handsome. Beautiful. Dark hair fell softly over his forehead. His features were sharper than she remembered, but there was something warm in his eyes. And those eyes They were looking at her as if he had been waiting. Not surprised. Not confused. Waiting. His hand was still around her waist. Celestia suddenly remembered how to breathe. "I—" She stopped. Because he was still staring at her. Not rudely. Not carelessly. Like he couldn't quite believe she was real. Luna appeared beside them. "Are you two planning to stay like that?" Celestia jumped back. He let go immediately. Her face burned. "I almost fell." "I noticed," he said. His voice was low. Deep. Completely unfamiliar. Celestia stared at him. He stared back. And then He smiled. A small smile. Slow. Beautiful. Something about it made her heart trip over itself. "Eight years," he said quietly. Celestia blinked. "What?" His eyes never left hers. "That's how long it's been." She frowned. Had they met before? No. Luna folded her arms. "Oh, this is better than I expected." Celestia turned to her. "What are you talking about?" Luna pointed toward him. "Celestia." Then toward her brother. "Evan." Celestia looked at him. Then looked again. Her mouth slowly opened. "No." Evan's smile widened slightly. "That's reassuring." Celestia stepped closer. Her eyes moved over his face. "No." "Still no?" "You're Evan?" "The same one." "The Evan who used to hide in his room whenever I came over?" His expression changed. "I didn't hide." "You absolutely hid." "I was studying." "You were twelve." "Twelve year-olds study." Celestia stared at him. "You barely spoke to me." His gaze softened. "I spoke." "Three words." "Sometimes four." Luna laughed loudly. Celestia couldn't stop staring. This couldn't possibly be the same person. Eight years ago, Evan couldn't even look at her properly. Now he was standing in front of her, taller than her by almost an entire head, looking at her with a confidence she had never seen before. "What happened to you?" she asked. Evan tilted his head. "What happened to me?" Celestia gestured helplessly. "All of this." For a second, he looked confused. Then amused. He looked down at himself. "I'm not sure how to answer that." "I mean you were tiny." "I was twelve" "You were still tiny." "I was five foot seven." "Exactly." Luna covered her face. Evan looked back at Celestia. And laughed. A real laugh. And suddenly, strangely, she recognized him. Not his face. Not completely. But something in that laugh. Something in his eyes. The shy boy was still there. Somewhere. He had just grown into someone she didn't recognize anymore. Celestia folded her arms. "You changed." Evan looked at her for a long moment. Then his smile disappeared. Not completely. Just enough. "So did you." For some reason, those words felt different. The hallway suddenly felt too quiet. Celestia looked away first. Luna, thankfully, broke the moment. "Okay. This is getting weird. Everyone downstairs. Mom made enough food to feed an army." Celestia started walking again. But as she passed Evan, she glanced at him. He was still watching her. She stopped. "Why are you looking at me like that?" His eyebrows lifted. "Like what?" "Like..." She didn't know. Like he knew something she didn't. Like he remembered something she had forgotten. Evan's gaze softened. Then he stepped aside and gestured toward the stairs. "Welcome home, Celestia." Her chest tightened. The exact same words his father had said. But somehow, coming from Evan, they felt different. Celestia continued downstairs. She didn't look back. She didn't see the way Evan remained standing there for several seconds. She didn't see the way his fingers tightened slightly around the railing. And she definitely didn't know what he was thinking. Eight years ago, Evan had barely been able to say her name without looking at the floor. Eight years ago, Celestia had been nothing more than his sister's soulmate The girl who visited during summers. The girl who laughed too loudly. The girl who never noticed him standing quietly in the corner. Eight years had changed a lot. But apparently... Not everything. Because Evan still remembered the flowers she loved. And Celestia still had absolutely no idea.