Page 103 of A Kingdom's Heart
I looked down at her. Her eyes were half closed, her lips curved in the faintest smile. I wanted to reach out and touch her face, to trace the softness of her skin, but I didn’t. Some moments were meant to stay as they were.
I kept reading until the story came to an end. My voice grew quieter with each line until I finally closed the book and set it beside me on the grass. The night was still, the sea calm beneath the moonlight.
When I looked down at her, her eyes were half lidded, her lashes
heavy with sleep. She looked tired, but peaceful. I didn’t want the moment to end, though I knew I should tell her to go back before anyone noticed she was gone.
“You should probably head back,” I said quietly.
She shook her head against my chest. “Not yet,” she murmured. “Just a little longer.”
A warmth spread through me at her words. I smiled, unable to help it. “Then stay.”
She leaned closer, her head tilting up toward the open sky. For a while, we said nothing. Then she lifted a hand, pointing toward the distant peaks outlined in silver. “What do you think is up there?” she asked softly.
I followed her gaze. The mountains stood tall and dark, their tips lost in the mist. “Maybe nothing,” I said. “Or maybe something
worth finding.”
She hummed quietly, thoughtful. “Do you ever think about leaving? Going somewhere far?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “But not tonight.”
She smiled as her eyes drifted toward the stars. Their reflection shimmered across the water, soft and distant.
“What about them?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She pointed up at the sky. “What do you think they really are?”
I followed her gaze again. The stars scattered across the dark
like spilled silver dust, endless and unreachable. “I don’t know,” I said after a moment. “Maybe candles. Ones God lights so people don’t get lost in the dark.”
Her lips curved. “That’s a comforting thought,” she said. “Lights to guide us when the world feels too dim.”
Then her gaze deepened, her voice softer now. “But maybe they’re something else. Maybe they’re a piece of us. A mark of every soul that’s found peace in heaven. Each one a reminder that no one’s ever truly gone.”
I looked at her, unable to speak for a moment. The wind carried the scent of salt and earth, her words lingering like a faint hum of the sea.
“That’s beautiful,” I said finally. “I like your way better.”
She smiled again and leaned closer, her shoulder brushing mine.
“Then we’ll keep both,” she whispered.
The stars shimmered above us, like shards of light across the sky. She kept her gaze on them, blue eyes wide and full of wonder. But mine stayed on her.
Her hair glowed faintly beneath the moonlight, a soft halo against the silver sky. I drew her closer without thinking, my arms tightening around her. The quiet between us felt warm, steady.
“They’re beautiful,” she said softly.
“I know,” I murmured. But I wasn’t looking at the stars.
She tilted her head slightly, still watching the sky. “The stars are
the most beautiful things ever,” she said.
A faint smile tugged at my lips. “And yet, you outshine them.”
She turned her face toward me, her eyes catching the light, and for a moment I forgot to breathe. A soft color rose to her cheeks, warm and delicate against the cool air. She looked away quickly, but I saw the small smile forming on her lips.
