Two months. That was all it had been since Avery and Kara matched on the app, but somehow it felt like they had been orbiting each other much longer, like the universe had been quietly pulling them closer until they finally collided.
It wasn't always grand gestures most of the time, it was simple. Kara pulling up in her car outside Beachwalk, waiting patiently as Avery ended her shift. Avery sliding into the passenger seat with a tired smile, only to brighten the second she saw Kara, she is smiling the moment Avery slid into the passenger seat with tired eyes and a relieved grin. They'd drive aimlessly, deciding on dinner mid-journey, often settling for little restaurant tucked between busy streets. Avery teased Kara for her predictable order, chicken, always chicken.
Avery leaned back in her chair, smirking as the waiter walked away with their order. "Let me guess… chicken. Again."
Kara raised a brow, pretending to be offended. "And what's wrong with chicken? At least I know what I like."
"What you like is the same thing every single time." Avery laughed, shaking her head. "One day I'm gonna make you order something different. Live dangerously."
Kara stabbed a fry from Avery's plate the moment she looked away. "Dangerous like this?" she said around a mouthful, smirking when Avery gasped.
"Hey!" Avery tried to shield her food, laughing. "That's robbery. Get your own fries."
"They taste better when they're yours," Kara teased, leaning back smugly.
Avery rolled her eyes, but her smile softened as she shook her head. "You're impossible."
"And you still sit across from me," Kara shot back, eyes glinting.
"Yeah," Avery admitted quietly, her smirk fading into something gentler. "Guess I do."
***
Weekends turned into café hopping adventures. Kara had a knack for finding new places on Instagram, and Avery would rate each one not just by coffee but by "chair comfort" and "lighting for reading."
They spent hours sharing stories over pastries, slices of cake, and iced lattes, watching strangers come and go, building a rhythm of inside jokes and quiet rituals.
"This chair is a six out of ten," Avery said, shifting for the third time. "Looks cute, but my back is screaming."
Kara laughed, stirring her latte. "You're the only person I know who reviews chairs more seriously than the food."
"Well, the food's temporary. Chair trauma lasts forever." Avery leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "Remember that one café in Canggu? My spine still hasn't recovered."
Kara covered her mouth, giggling. "You're so dramatic."
"Dramatic? No. Honest? Yes." Avery took a forkful of cake, then pushed the plate toward Kara. "Here, taste this. Too sweet for me."
Kara sampled it, nodding approvingly. "It's perfect. You're just weak."
"Excuse me?" Avery's brows rose, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, some of us have refined taste buds."
"Refined or boring?" Kara teased, her smile mischievous.
Avery pointed her fork at her. "Keep talking, Miss Chicken Order, and I'll steal your latte."
Kara quickly pulled her glass closer, hugging it like treasure. "Touch it and die."
They both dissolved into laughter, the sound blending with the café's quiet chatter, as natural as breathing.
***
Then there was one afternoon when Avery hanging out at Kara's, Kara's parents surprised her with a new motorcycle. It sat gleaming in the garage, wrapped in plastic like some oversized present. Kara stood frozen, hands uncertain as she stared at it.
"Well?" Avery nudged her shoulder. "Aren't you gonna open it?"
Kara frowned at the bundle of wrapping, biting her lip. "It feels weird. Like… what if I mess it up?"
Avery chuckled, stepping closer. "It's not a wedding cake, Kara. It's a bike. It's meant to get dirty."
"Easy for you to say," Kara muttered, still hesitant.
Rolling her eyes with a grin, Avery grabbed at the plastic, tearing it with quick, practiced motions. "Here, let me."
"Hey!" Kara swatted lightly at her arm. "That's mine."
"Then help me," Avery shot back, tugging at the plastic until it came loose.
Kara finally joined in, laughing as they pulled the covering off together, shoulders brushing again and again. The shiny black metal emerged, polished and perfect. Kara's eyes widened.
"It's… beautiful." She reached out, fingertips grazing the handlebars.
Avery stood back, hands on her hips, grinning. "Looks like trouble. Guess this makes us more dangerous now."
Kara tilted her head, smirking. "Us? I don't see your name on the registration."
Avery leaned closer, voice low, playful. "Oh, you'll let me ride with you. I can be your excuse when your mom yells about speeding."
Kara laughed, shaking her head. "You're shameless."
"And you're smiling," Avery pointed out.
Kara tried to suppress it, but she couldn't. She smiled wider, running her hand across the seat. "Yeah. Guess I am."
***
One night on the cold October, at Avery's favorite hill in Jimbaran is nothing had prepared Kara for that.
The climb up had been quiet. Avery led the way, one hand gripping the strap of the blanket bag slung over her shoulder, the other pointing out the narrow trail lit faintly by moonlight. Kara followed close, complaining every so often about the uneven ground, but smiling anyway.
"Are we almost there?" Kara asked, huffing as she stumbled over a stone.
"Patience," Avery said with a grin, reaching back to steady her with a hand. "You'll thank me once you see it."
They reached the top, where the world stretched wide and endless. The city below glittered faintly, the sea beyond reflecting silver, and above them the sky opened... studded with stars so sharp and clear it felt unreal.
Kara stopped short, her breath catching. "Oh… wow."
Avery set down the blanket, smoothing it across the grass. "Told you it was worth the climb."
Kara sat beside her, hugging her knees, still staring upward. "It's beautiful."
"Mm," Avery murmured, lying back with her hands tucked under her head. "Told you this was my spot. Hardly anyone comes here."
Kara turned her head toward her, lips tugging into a smile. "So I'm special, huh?"
Avery's smirk softened into something gentler. "You are."
Kara looked away quickly, hiding her blush in the shadows, but the word echoed inside her chest.
They lay side by side, silence weaving comfortably between them. After a while, Kara pulled out her phone, unlocking an app with a faint glow that lit her face.
"What are you doing?" Avery asked, amused.
"Wait." Kara lifted the screen toward the sky, angling it carefully. "It's showing me the constellations. See? That's Orion… and over there's Scorpio."
Avery leaned closer, her arm brushing Kara's as she squinted at the screen. "So you brought a cheat sheet to the stars."
"Not a cheat sheet," Kara corrected, smirking. "A guide. Besides, it's fun."
She moved the phone again, the app outlining the shapes. "That one's Leo. And there… Sagittarius."
Avery glanced from the screen to Kara, her expression softening. "You look like you're glowing."
Kara blinked, caught off guard. "It's just the phone light."
"No," Avery said quietly. "It's you."
Kara blushed, hiding her face with her hand. "Don't tease me."
"I'm not teasing," Avery said gently, brushing her fingers across Kara's wrist. "It's… perfect. You are a star, you know. You light things up."
For a while, silence filled the air, comfortable, heavy with things unsaid. The wind rustled through the grass, carrying the faint salt of the ocean, and Kara let herself sink into it.
Avery broke the stillness first. "You know what I love about stars?"
Kara tilted her head. "What?"
"They're constant," Avery said, voice low, almost thoughtful. "Even when you can't see them, they're still up there. Waiting." She turned then, her gaze catching Kara's in the dark. "Kind of like the people who matter. Just because they're out of sight doesn't mean they're gone."
Kara's chest tightened. "Do you always talk like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're writing poetry by accident."
Avery laughed, embarrassed. "Guess I can't help it around you."
Kara rolled her eyes, but her lips betrayed her with a smile. "Cheesy."
"You love it."
"…Maybe."
Avery get up and sit closer to Kara, Their shoulders brushed, a touch so light it could have been nothing, but both of them felt it. Kara's fingers fidgeted against the blanket, fighting the urge to reach for Avery's hand.
"Do you ever get scared?" Kara whispered after a long pause.
Avery shifted, propping herself up on one elbow. "Of what?"
"This," Kara said softly. "Us. That it's too much, too fast."
Avery was quiet for a beat, considering. "Yeah. Sometimes." Her gaze softened, and she leaned closer. "But then I remember... every moment with you feels worth the risk."
Kara swallowed hard, her throat tight. She lay back down, close enough that their arms pressed together now. "I don't want this to end."
Avery turned her head, studying her in the dim glow of the stars. "Then let's not let it."
Kara's heart tumbled. She turned, finally daring to let her hand slip closer, her pinky brushing Avery's. Avery's fingers shifted, twining gently with hers, and Kara exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
The stars burned brighter above them, as though the sky itself was listening.
Avery shifted closer, her hand touching Kara's on the blanket.
"Can I…?"
Kara's lips parted, breath shaky. She nodded once, just enough.
Their lips met, soft at first... tentative, like testing the edges of a dream. But the longer they lingered, the deeper it grew, the world narrowing until there was nothing but the warmth of Avery's mouth, the rush of her heartbeat, the taste of something that felt inevitable.
When they finally pulled apart, Kara exhaled shakily, her forehead still leaning against Avery's.
"Honestly…" Kara whispered, her voice almost breaking. "Thank you."
Avery searched her eyes, brushing her thumb against Kara's cheek. "For what?"
"For… being here. For holding me that night. For… all of this." Kara's eyes shimmered, her lips curving into a trembling smile. "I didn't think I could feel safe like this again."
Avery's chest ached, but she smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Then let me keep you safe."
Kara closed her eyes, letting the words sink deep. Above them, the constellations glowed brighter, as if the universe had written their moment into the stars themselves.