Nerissa stares at the magpie resting on the branch of the 30-whatever-year-old oak tree standing tall in the centre of the garden. That tree has been there for her whole life, unmoving. It is near-eternal. The branches wind and twist as it grows with the seasons. The magpie, on the other hand, comes and goes. It is transient. Nerissa notices that it comes back to its nest every night, just like how Spring always comes back, just like how the first alpine wildflowers grow out from the cracks after the ice thaws. It is free, it can fly, and it knows where home is.
She can’t say the same for herself. Frost spreads like overgrowth into her chest. Pale hands trace the surface of the mahogany window, and she feels nothing. Numb your hands, numb your head, numb your heart, or something like that. Nerissa pushes herself up, shaking as she rises. She doesn’t remember if she’s eaten anything today.
It’s been 3 years since Elizabeth left for Great Exardia. Nerissa remembers too much of her. A transfer student from across the pond, taking Law and Politics, graduated summa cum laude in the Spring of 3 years ago. Flowing Scarlet hair down the slope of her shoulders, toned arms from going to gym every Thursday, and hands just slightly bigger than hers. Most of all, her eyes were the colour of the sunset, and her smile rivalled the shine of the sun. Elizabeth carved herself into the corners of Nerissa’s heart, and left.
They’ve barely kept contact since. Nerissa hopes she’s okay. She doesn’t know how to live with herself if she isn’t.
Nerissa wakes up to the telltale phone ding. She fumbles for her phone, shaking against the bedsheets. The phone light blinds her. Hastily, she pushes the nightlight on. It says 05:24 AM. A message notification sits right below, and her eyes widen when she sees the name.
Are you available this Tuesday? I’m heading over to Freesia in a few. I’ll send you the flight details. Hope to see you soon.
With Love,
Elizabeth
Nerissa’s out of bed by the time the sun rises, and out of the house after a quick fruit breakfast. The airport is an hour-long drive away. She finds herself in front of the arrivals waiting area around half an hour before the predicted landing time. She loves her too much to be early.
She spots a mop of red against a sea of things she can’t bother to remember, and the world blends into watercolour. Suddenly, red is the only striking colour against the pastel blues and greys and whites. Nerissa feels her heart rise. Sunset scarlet meets wine red and for a moment, Nerissa spots a smile form at the edges of Elizabeth’s mouth.
Nerissa has to stop herself from running to hug her. She doesn’t know where they are. There is something about Elizabeth that is different, somehow. Her shoulders no longer stand as tall as they used to be, and she’s lost that steadiness she once had just three years ago. The second thing that Nerissa notices is how tired Elizabeth looks. Her eyes don’t hold the spark of starlight that was once a solace to her heart. It’s probably from the flight.
Elizabeth chuckles weakly, and Nerissa feels her breath stop. No. That’s all real. Something has changed.
“It’s lovely to see you, Nerissa.”
Nerissa nods slowly, after some time.
“How have you been?” You look different. Is it really you?
Elizabeth chuckles. She looks at Nerissa with a timeless kind of gentleness. That’s something that hasn’t changed, at least. It’s a quality found eternal inside Elizabeth, and it gives Nerissa a little warmth.
“I’ll tell you later. Mind if we find somewhere to eat, first?”
Nerissa could never say no to that. They stop at a sandwich shop not too far away from the airport to let Elizabeth grab some toast. Nerissa waits by the high chairs as Elizabeth lines up on the counter.
Elizabeth, for a lack of a better term, looks weathered. Alive, but weathered. She’s cracked, under some unknown force Nerissa wants so badly to push away. Her flame isn’t the blazing inferno she remembers. Instead, it flickers softly, steadily, smaller than it was before. Elizabeth’s hands wobble slightly as she takes the toasted tuna roll from the side of the counter.
“Sorry for texting you out of the blue, by the way,” Elizabeth starts, seating herself opposite to Nerissa.
No, never apologise for something like that, I’ve missed you, thank you for thinking of me. It gets stuck on Nerissa’s throat. Her fingers twitch. She settles for a slow nod, instead.
“I just thought that. I’d like to see you again. To see what everything used to be.”
“You’re still thinking of me? Aww, that’s real cute of you.” Nerissa quips, tittering off. On the contrary, there is a storm brewing inside her heart, questions swirling around like a typhoon. I’m happy you thought of me. Why would you think of me? I’m worried for you. I wish I was there for you.
Elizabeth giggles lightly. The light doesn’t reach her eyes. “Things have been going on. I thought I’d come back to visit, for a change.”
Nerissa hums. “Do you have a place to stay? I can drive you there.”
Elizabeth smiles, and Nerissa feels her heart leap. “Thank you, Nerissa.”
Nerissa waves Elizabeth off by the hotel entrance, watching her slowly transform into a dot of red that disappears behind the doors. The moment the doors close, her arm drops to the side. Wine red eyes linger at the spot in front of the entrance, as if there were ghosts of memories unseen. Nerissa exhales deeply, feeling the early spring cold settle into her skin. Elizabeth has changed. A hurricane comes to life inside of her chest, borne from emotion. Is Elizabeth still the person she used to love?
She tears hearself away, hand on the car door. Is it possible to find a little peace, even amidst a storm?
Elizabeth invites her out to the city’s public library. They used to come here together every other week or so, to read up and do assignments, for fun. Nerissa thinks of how innocent and happy they were in their university days. That has changed, too.
She walks into the smell of cedar and paper, her vision changing from one of green and blue and grey of the skies and the shrubs to the browns and reds and deep cobalt of the bookshelves and book spines. Elizabeth stands tall against the background of the rose window, a book left open on her palms. The shadows of exhaustion don't leave her face, evidently, even as the holy light of the Sun shines upon her back.
Elizabeth smiles as Nerissa makes herself known. She leaves space for her, stepping a little to the left in an act of practiced courtesy.
Always the well-mannered one, Nerissa mutters under her breath, heart lifting just a little. Something familiar at last.
She pulls Elizabeth over, slowly, to the sofa on the corner. Lips quirking into a small smile, Nerissa presses her forehead against Elizabeth’s, with a small whisper of be right back, I will find myself a book. Some things just never seem to change.
Nerissa finds herself gravitating to the poetry section. She distinctly remembers one book, titled Big Panda and Tiny Dragon, by James Norbury. The golden letters are strikingly bright against the brown-grey hardback spine, sitting silently within the second column of the bookshelf.
However small the light, she recalls, it’s better than the darkness. Autumn chapter, page 117.
Fire comes to mind, first. It can burn out, grow smaller. Swayed by the wind, stuffed out by time when the candle wax melts. It is still light. No matter how little it is, as long as the light shines, it is better than anything. Hope is a kind of fire that kindles at the verge of darkness, a shadow of a woman with scars and mud and dirt, and the power to get up once more. Nerissa gives herself the time to let Elizabeth breathe. Chances don’t come by often. Carpe diem, Elizabeth has once said. Latin for Seize the Day. Seize the Moment, Seize the Chance. Nerissa seizes her heart. Give her some space, Rissa, she tells herself. Scars do not heal in a day.
“Are you free this Sunday?” Elizabeth asks, one day. She sits on a bench on the side of the street, beside a Culver’s chain. Nerissa hums a melody nondescript, half-eaten butter burger sitting on her lap, still in the wrapper. “There is a nice garden I want to take you to.”
“Of course,” Nerissa answers, pulling Elizabeth closer, shoulders flush against the other. Elizabeth stifles a giggle, dimples rising. “I’ll go wherever you go.”
They visit the garden near the city university greenhouse. Alumni get a free pass, Nerissa remembers Elizabeth say. She laughs, knowing that the garden is open to the general public. Elizabeth is charming like that, making reasons for everything. The pebbles crunch under their feet, the well-walked dirt-gravel path stretching across the horizon. A river stretches past it, water pearlescent under the sun. It casts dappled spots of light upon the grass, and it glows amidst the midspring heat.
Nerissa comes down to sit with Elizabeth on the grass, next to the daffodils and chrysanthemums and sunflowers. Her back touches the ground, vision towards the sky. The glare of the sun comes into her eyes, so she looks away. She doesn’t regret looking away. Elizabeth shines, golden and holy, against the blue. A God amidst the blossoms in the land of the Mortal, but no less human than anyone else. She is beautiful.
Nerissa has always known, of course, but this is the prettiest she’s ever been. It’s here where she realises, with soft revelation, that one does not have to be perfect to be beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, found in the flecks of sand on the beach, among the critters hiding under the shade of the shrubs, in the shape of the mountains, and in the glitter inside Elizabeth’s smile. Being broken doesn’t mean being incapable of shining. Elizabeth is better than the sun in that regard.
Nerissa brings Elizabeth out to see the stars for the first time in years. They drive out to the edge of the city, where the lights can’t reach them. She parks the car on the side of the road. The sun is sinking below the horizon, sky bleeding into orange and purple, a twilight canvas of the world. Nerissa fishes out a lantern from the back of the car, creaking it on.
“Man, that’s old. At least it still works.” Nerissa chuckles, watching the lantern flicker to life.
“Well, mum’s always said that ‘if it works, it works’, you know?” Elizabeth responds, rolling out the picnic mat.
“Your mom or mine?” Nerissa quips, handing the picnic basket to Elizabeth, who laughs quietly. “My mom said the same thing.”
“You know what I mean, Nerissa.” Elizabeth says, airily.
They find their comfort in the surface of the mat. Elizabeth rummages inside the basket to pull out two tupperware boxes, Nerissa-made katsu curry inside.
“Dinner time.” Elizabeth chuckles, and Nerissa feels her smile grow.
Time runs past them like the wind picking up in the fields. The sun is gone, and the sky is dark. The stars peek out, sprinkling glitter over the curtain of night as far as the eye can see. Elizabeth lay on the mat, eyes toward the sky. Nerissa sat beside her, knees up to her chest. They stay like that in silence, save for the faint rustle of the grass against the wind.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth says, suddenly, “for taking me out to see the stars.”
Elizabeth smiles at her. The lantern light reveals to Nerissa the deep furrows long set deep into Elizabeth’s skin, and how exhausted she seems to be. Her smile is weak, not as vibrant as how it used to be, but the warmth it radiates is eternally bright.
Nerissa thinks of all the things that have changed. Many, for sure. Elizabeth is jaded, so to speak. Tired and weary, back hunching down from the weight life has bestowed upon her. It matters not if it is a gift or curse. It does not mean, however, that Elizabeth is no longer. Some shine bright and true and eternal, like what the stars would be. It glitters within the little acts of kindness and politeness, in the gestures she makes when she’s nervous, in the way her brows crease downwards when she’s thinking, in the unshakeable steadiness she always tries to hold herself with. There are cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see, and Nerissa sees one such altar inside the starlight of Elizabeth’s soft sunset eyes.
It is possible to find a little peace, even in a storm.
Elizabeth is still the person she used to love. She’s cold to the touch, broken and mended, but she is still Elizabeth, and Nerissa doesn’t mind that. She has changed, weathered from the sands of time and the weight of the world, but Nerissa quickly decides that she’ll gladly hold that weight with Elizabeth if it means she lives just a second longer.
“Love needs no explanation,” Nerissa finds herself saying. She finds solace in the stars, looking at nothing in particular as she draws circles into the mat below her. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“We could’ve done this sooner.”
“What is important, Elizabeth, is that we’re doing it now.”
Nerissa feels the weight of a hand come to settle down on her own. Elizabeth sits up, rising from the ground. She looks at Nerissa with a tired smile, and she feels herself being brought closer. Their foreheads touch, feather-light and delicate, but Elizabeth feels the deliberation thinly veiled behind the shake in Nerissa’s hands.
“I see how gentle you are, Nerissa.” Elizabeth says, breathless. “I try to treat myself with the same kindness. It’s hard to do.”
“The hardest of all is to be kind to ourselves,” Nerissa says, fondly, but with unspeakable weight. “And we must try.”
Elizabeth feels herself break, and she buries a quiet sob into Nerissa’s shoulder. Nerissa holds her as tightly as she can. For a split second, Nerissa remembers the time before Elizabeth. She does not want to go back to that. She loves Elizabeth, she knows, but she fears. She fears that if she stays close, she’ll snuff the fire out. She fears that she’s imposing upon Elizabeth, and the fragility in which she brings herself with sets dread into Nerissa because she doesn’t want to ruin that delicate balance. She doesn’t trust herself enough. Nerissa throws all of that away. Elizabeth needs strength right now, and I have to be that strength for her.
“Liz,” Nerissa starts, softly. “Look at me. Elizabeth. You are a universe. You are stardust made human and you sparkle in a shine peerless. You are kind, and gentle, and fragile, and not everyone can hold you properly. Of course, you can learn to hold yourself, and I will do so, too, because I love you, and I care.”
Elizabeth feels her breath leave her lungs. All she can do is stare and wait.
“Elizabeth, peace can be found in a rainstorm because the beauty has always been there. It’s just small. Tiny. It is different for everyone. You are unique in your own right. There is beauty in being broken, if you want to look for it, and I can see it in you.” Nerissa exhales, her breath a whisper. “I am not perfect, either. I’m barely keeping myself together, if I were to be honest, but I am here for you, if you will have me.”
Elizabeth clings onto Nerissa like a lifeline, feeling wet tears stream down her cheeks. She chases the warmth, catching it in her chest, and she sobs into the space in Nerissa’s shoulder. No words have to be said. They are their own Universe, Elizabeth and Nerissa both. They are the stars, the endless sea, and they are magnificently beautiful in that way. Here, they are mortal, still, but a moment is their eternity.