The clock struck midnight in Immerheim, but Cecilia was wide awake. She sat curled up on the couch, her phone glowing faintly in her hand. The city outside was silent, the occasional hum of a passing car breaking through the stillness.
“Hey,” Gigi’s voice came softly through the line, the faint delay a reminder of how far apart they were. “You’re still up.”
Cecilia pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Of course I’m still up. I told you I’d wait for your call.”
There was a pause, not awkward but familiar, like the space between breaths. “You didn’t have to, Ceci,” Gigi said gently. “It’s late there. I don’t want you losing sleep over me.”
Cecilia smiled faintly, though Gigi couldn’t see it. “I lose sleep when I don’t hear your voice. So, really, you’re doing me a favour.”
They both laughed softly, but the sound was bittersweet. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation—about the distance, the time difference, the ache of being apart. And it likely wouldn’t be the last.
“How was your day?” Cecilia asked, leaning back against the couch cushions.
“It was fine,” Gigi said, but there was a tiredness in her voice. “Long. Boring work, the usual grind. What about you?”
“Same,” Cecilia replied, though she hesitated for a moment before adding, “I missed you today. More than usual.”
The admission hung between them, fragile but not unexpected. Gigi didn’t rush to fill the silence.
“I missed you too,” she said finally. “I think about you all the time, Ceci. You know that, right?”
“I do,” Cecilia said softly. “But... it’s hard. Some days it feels like the distance is this huge thing between us, like these walls we can’t get through. And it scares me.”
Gigi exhaled quietly, and Cecilia imagined her sitting in her tiny apartment in Freesia, running a hand through her brown hair as she thought of what to say.
“Cecilia,” Gigi began carefully, “I know this is hard. Harder than either of us thought it would be. And I know we’ve talked about this before—how it feels like everything’s slipping away some days. But it’s not. I promise you, it’s not.”
Cecilia closed her eyes, the weight of Gigi’s words settling over her. “It’s just... sometimes I feel like I’m holding onto you so tightly, and I don’t know if it’s enough. Like, what if I’m holding on too tight? What if I push you away?”
“You’re not pushing me away,” Gigi said firmly, but her tone was soft. “You’re holding us together. And I’m holding on too. I know it feels like we’re standing on opposite sides of a crumbling bridge sometimes, but we’re building it back together, piece by piece.”
Cecilia’s gaze shifted to the window. The streetlights glowed faintly, and beyond them, the clouds hung low and heavy, just like they had all day. “You make it sound so simple,” she murmured.
“It’s not simple,” Gigi admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? And next week, I’ll be there with you. No distance, no delay. Just us.”
“Next week,” Cecilia repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
“I wasn’t sure when to tell you,” Gigi said, a faint chuckle in her voice. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but... I figured you could use some good news tonight.”
Cecilia felt a lump rise in her throat. “You’ve already booked it?”
“Booked, confirmed, and triple-checked,” Gigi said. “I’ll be there before you know it.”
The words were like a light breaking through the clouds, easing the ache in Cecilia’s chest.
“Thank you,” Cecilia said quietly, wiping at her eyes. “For calling, for everything. For not giving up on us.”
“I could never give up on us,” Gigi replied. “You mean too much to me, Ceci.”
For a long moment, they simply stayed on the line, not needing to say much more. The distance between them didn’t feel quite so vast now, not with Gigi’s voice grounding her.
“I’m sorry if I bring this up too much,” Cecilia said finally. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m doubting us.”
“You’re not,” Gigi reassured her. “You’re just being honest. And I’d rather you talk to me about it than keep it bottled up. We’ll figure this out together. We always do.”
Cecilia smiled, her chest feeling lighter. “We do, don’t we?”
“We do,” Gigi said firmly. “Now, go to sleep, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Cecilia whispered. “I love you, Gigi.”
“I love you too, Ceci. Always.”
As the line disconnected, Cecilia sat for a moment in the quiet. The storm clouds outside didn’t seem so ominous anymore. She could feel the dawn coming, even if it hadn’t arrived yet.
The arrivals board flickered overhead, its glowing letters shifting to announce the latest flight landed: Freesia Airlines, Flight 247—Arrived.
Cecilia’s breath hitched. Her heart had been racing since she’d stepped into the airport an hour ago, but now it pounded so loudly she thought everyone around her could hear it. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her other hand gripping the edge of her phone, though she hadn’t checked it in minutes.
She’s here. She’s actually here.
The words repeated in her head like a mantra. Cecilia tried to remind herself to breathe as she moved closer to the rail separating the waiting area from the arrivals hall. The crowd around her buzzed with energy—families holding signs, friends chatting excitedly—but Cecilia couldn’t focus on any of it.
Her eyes were glued to the glass doors where passengers would appear.
She adjusted her scarf, then adjusted it again, her fingers trembling. What if Gigi didn’t come through those doors? What if something happened at the last minute—her flight delayed, her plans changed?
What if Gigi saw her and realised this was all too much?
Stop it, Cecilia, she scolded herself silently. Gigi had reassured her again and again. “I’m coming to see you, Ceci,” she’d said. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Still, her nerves wouldn’t settle. Long-distance had planted so many doubts in her heart that even this moment—this thing she’d been dreaming of for weeks—felt almost unreal.
The doors slid open, and passengers began to pour through, wheeling luggage and looking for familiar faces. Cecilia leaned forward, her knuckles white against the rail. Her breath caught every time she saw a flash of brown hair or heard a voice that sounded even slightly like Gigi’s.
And then—there she was.
Gigi Murin stepped through the doors, her brown hair falling messily around her face, her familiar leather jacket slung over her shoulders despite the chilly Immerheim air. She looked tired, but when her eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Cecilia, her entire face lit up.
“Cecilia!”
The sound of her voice broke the last of Cecilia’s restraint. She darted through the throng of people, weaving between families and luggage carts, until she was right in front of Gigi.
Cecilia didn’t think. She threw her arms around Gigi, pulling her into a tight embrace, her face buried in the crook of Gigi’s neck. Gigi’s arms came up immediately, wrapping around Cecilia like she was the only thing grounding her in the chaos of the airport.
“You’re here,” Cecilia whispered, her voice trembling. She could feel Gigi’s heart beating against her chest. “You’re really here.”
“I told you I would be,” Gigi said, her voice soft and full of warmth. She pulled back just enough to look at Cecilia, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I missed you so much, Ceci. You have no idea.”
Cecilia laughed, though it came out as more of a sob. “I think I have some idea.”
They stood there for a moment, oblivious to the bustling crowd around them. It was just the two of them now, the weight of the past few months melting away in each other’s arms.
“You’re real,” Cecilia said, her voice barely above a whisper. She touched Gigi’s cheek, as if to prove it to herself. “I was so scared this wouldn’t feel real.”
Gigi leaned into her touch, her smile softening. “It’s real, Ceci. We’re real.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Cecilia believed her.
They walked out of the airport together, Gigi’s bag slung over her shoulder, one hand firmly clasped in Cecilia’s. The cold air hit them as they stepped outside, but Cecilia didn’t feel it.
“So,” Gigi said, glancing at her with a grin. “What’s the plan now? Straight home, or are you going to show me your favourite café first?”
Cecilia smiled, squeezing Gigi’s hand. “How about both? We have so much to catch up on.”
Gigi laughed, the sound filling the chilly night air like music. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go.”
¬
The train station buzzed with activity, people hurrying to and from platforms, dragging luggage behind them, their voices blending into a soft hum in the background. Gigi and Cecilia stood near the ticket booth, waiting for their train to arrive. The air was brisk, carrying the scent of rain from earlier that day. Cecilia glanced at the clock above them—it was already getting late.
Gigi, looking more at ease despite the travel, pulled her phone from her pocket. “You know, I’ve been dying to show you my latest playlist,” she said, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “Let me know what you think.”
Cecilia raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to force me to listen to your entire music library, aren’t you?”
“I mean, force might be a strong word,” Gigi teased. “But yes, definitely.”
Gigi took out one of her earphones and held it out to Cecilia. “Here,” she said with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’m not giving you full control over the playlist. You’re just along for the ride.”
Cecilia chuckled, taking the earbud from Gigi’s hand. She slid it into her ear and waited while Gigi adjusted the settings on her phone. The train station sounds were muffled as the first few tracks shuffled on.
They stood together, close but not quite touching, the warmth of each other’s presence grounding them in the busy space. Gigi hummed along with the songs as they played, her head gently nodding to the rhythm.
Then, just as the shuffle continued, the opening notes of ‘Pompeii’ began to play.
Cecilia froze, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced up at Gigi, who was still humming, unaware of the significance of the song.
“Eh-eheu, eheu...”
The sound of the song surrounded them, the familiar rhythm evoking a rush of emotions in Cecilia’s chest. The distance, the longing, the uncertainty of the past few months—all of it came flooding back in an instant. She had listened to this song so many times while they were apart, each lyric feeling like a conversation they never had.
“But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?”
Cecilia smiled softly to herself, her heart swelling. It felt like the universe was reminding her that, no matter how far they were from each other, some things remained unchanged.
Gigi looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What? Is something wrong?” she asked, noticing Cecilia’s sudden stillness.
Cecilia shook her head, her smile growing. “It’s just... this song. It’s, uh, our song now, I think.”
Gigi’s lips curled into a smile. “I was wondering when you were going to say that,” she teased. “You’re right, though. I’ve been hearing it a lot lately too.”
Cecilia nodded, her eyes soft. “I’ve been listening to it on repeat,” she admitted. “It... it reminds me of us. Of how even when it felt like everything was falling apart, we kept going. Kept waiting. And now you’re here.”
Gigi squeezed her hand, her voice tender. “We’re still here. And that’s what matters. Even when everything around us feels uncertain... we’re still us.”
Cecilia leaned into Gigi, allowing herself to feel the comfort of her presence. “I love you,” she whispered, not needing to say more.
“I love you too,” Gigi replied, her voice warm as she pulled Cecilia just a little closer, their bodies almost touching now.
The song played on, filling the space between them with its familiar melody. For a moment, the bustle of the train station, the noise, and the rush of people faded into the background. All that mattered was the quiet between them, the shared earbud, and the feeling that, no matter where they were, nothing could change how they felt.
As the final notes of ‘Pompeii’ echoed in their ears, Gigi gave Cecilia a playful nudge. “Next time, we’re singing this together. Deal?”
“Deal,” Cecilia agreed, grinning. “But only if we’re not on a train platform when we do.”
Gigi laughed, and in that moment, everything felt just right.