As the hours ticked toward midnight, the energy in the fort finally ebbed away. The sugar crashes hit hard. Riley was the first to go, snoring softly with his head resting on a giant stuffed bear. Ellie followed soon after, her "silver tongue" silenced by exhaustion as she curled up in a nest of blankets.
The silence of the house settled in, punctuated only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the soft breathing of the twins.
Ethan reached out and gently nudged Annie's hand. He didn't speak, he just jerked his chin toward the exit of the fort. Annie nodded, her heart skipping a beat.
They moved like ghosts, navigating the obstacle course of pillows and sleeping limbs until they were out in the hallway.
The heavy living room doors clicked shut behind them. The hallway was dark, save for the moon spilling through the windows. Ethan didn't stop in the hall, he led her toward the privacy of her bedroom.
He didn't just walk out, he waited for her, his hand hovering near the small of her back as they slipped out into the quiet hallway. The transition from the sugar-fueled laughter of the fort to the stillness of the house made Annie's heart do a nervous little somersault.
He closed her bedroom door with a soft thud, turning to face her in the shadows. The "tough guy" facade was gone, replaced by the boy who had pulled her from the water three years ago and hadn't let go since.
"I didn't want to give you this in front of them," he whispered, reaching into his pocket. "It's a bit more... personal."
Ethan led her toward the window seat- the one she always sat in. He seemed more grounded than usual, the sharp edges of his "tough guy" school persona completely softened.
"I know you said you didn't want anything extravagant," he began, his voice low and steady. "And I know things have been... heavy lately. But I couldn't let today pass without something just for you."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular box wrapped in simple brown paper. "Open the gift first. The other part of the present... well, that requires your permission."
Annie carefully peeled back the paper. Inside was a hand-bound leather journal, its cover embossed with a small, delicate bluebell- her mother's favorite flower. But when she opened the first page, her breath hitched.
Ethan had spent weeks scouring old school yearbooks and local archives. He had found a candid photograph of Annie's mother from her own high school days- one Annie had never seen. She was sitting in a library, laughing, looking exactly like a mirror image of Annie.
"I remembered what you did for me," Ethan said, his voice cracking slightly. "Giving me back the image of my dad... it was the kindest thing anyone has ever done. I know your house isn't gone, but I know how much you miss her face. I wanted you to have a new memory of her to start your 18th year with."
Annie traced the lines of her mother's smile, a tear finally escaping and hitting the paper. "Ethan... this is incredible. It's perfect."
Ethan moved a step closer, his stubborn expression replaced by a rare, vulnerable hesitation. The air between them felt charged, warm and safe.
"I've been toning it down," he murmured, looking down at his shoes before meeting her blue eyes. "Trying to be respectful of everything you're going through. But Annie, I'm crazy about you. And for your birthday... I wanted to ask if I could finally kiss you. Only if you're ready. If not, we just go back in there and I'll try not to trip over Riley."
Annie looked from the beautiful journal to the boy who had seen her through her darkest month. She didn't feel the weight of grief in that moment, she felt a spark of something new.
She tilted her head up slightly, a light flush to her cheeks. "Just one," she whispered.
The bedroom was silent, the only sound the frantic thrumming of Annie's heart against her ribs. As Ethan stepped into her personal space, the air seemed to thicken, smelling of the crisp night air and the faint, comforting scent of his cologne.
When he finally leaned down, his hand found the side of her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with agonizing slowness. Annie's eyes fluttered shut.
As his lips finally met hers, a jolt of pure electricity surged through her, starting at the point of contact and radiating down to her fingertips. It was a dizzying, honey-thick warmth that made her knees feel like they were made of water. Her chest tightened- not with the suffocating weight of the lake water from years ago, but with a sharp, sweet ache she had never felt before. The kiss wasn't like the movies- it was better. It was hesitant at first, tasting of leftover sweets and moonlight, a soft promise that even though she had lost so much, she wasn't going to have to face the rest of it alone.
But then, a cold flicker of doubt sparked in the back of her mind. Is this okay? It's only been one and a half months. Should I be feeling this happy when she's gone?
As if sensing her hesitation, Ethan didn't pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding to the small of her back to pull her flush against him. He was gentle, yet there was a desperate edge to him- a silent acknowledgment that he had waited years for this moment and intended to make it linger in her memory for a lifetime.
The doubt began to melt under the sheer heat of him. The tingling sensation intensified, turning into a low simmer in her veins. Annie reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. For a few heated seconds, the world outside her bedroom door- the grief, the mean girls at school, the heaviness of the past, simply ceased to exist.
There was only the pressure of his lips and the safe, solid reality of his arms.
When they finally broke apart for air, both were slightly breathless. Ethan kept his forehead pressed against hers, his eyes dark and swirling with an intensity that made Annie's breath hitch all over again. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He let out a low, shaky exhale, a smirk slowly tugging at the corner of his mouth as he regained his usual composure. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered.
"Happy birthday, babydoll," he murmured, his voice a gravelly, intimate vibration. He paused, his thumb grazing her lower lip which was still tingling from the heat of him. "I hope that was enough to hold you over, because if I keep going like that, I might never let you leave this room, babydoll."
Annie felt a fresh wave of heat climb up her neck, her heart doing a frantic dance. He backed away just enough to give her space, but the look in his eyes promised that this was only the beginning.