"It's beautiful.." I whispered as Kev added the final touches.
"Good first tattoo," he agreed, wiping away excess ink. "Simple but meaningful. Now, aftercare is important." He launched into instructions about keeping it clean and moisturized, but I was distracted by Rafael's expression as he studied my wrist.
"Cygnus." Rafael said softly. "The swan."
I nodded, surprised he recognized it. "How did you know?"
"That poetry unit in Jenkins' class junior year," he reminded me. "We did Greek mythology. You wrote about Orpheus and the swan song."
The fact that he remembered took my breath away more effectively than any disease ever could. "You were paying attention?"
"I always pay attention to you," he said simply, then seemed to realize how that sounded and cleared his throat. "Your turn," he said to Kev, effectively changing the subject.
As Rafael took my place in the chair, I stood beside him, offering my hand like he'd done for me. He hesitated before taking it, his calloused fingers warm against mine.
"Nervous, Shade?" I teased.
"Please," he scoffed, but his grip tightened slightly when the needle first made contact.
Rafael's sun design was simpler than my constellation, a circle with short, straight rays extending outward, creating a stylized sun that matched the simplicity of my stars. Watching the needle trace black lines into his skin, marking him permanently with something that connected to me, made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with my CF.
"You two known each other long?" Kev asked as he worked, clearly sensing a story.
"Since third grade," Rafael answered, his eyes on me instead of the tattoo. "She threw a book at my head when I made fun of her glasses."
"You deserved it," I said, remembering the shy, angry boy who'd transferred to our school mid-year. "You called me four-eyes."
"I was a little shit." he agreed, a rare smile softening his features. "Still am, according to most people."
"Only most people." I repeated, returning his smile. Our eyes held for a moment too long, and I felt that now-familiar flutter in my stomach that both thrilled and terrified me.
Kev finished Rafael's tattoo in half the time mine had taken, given its simpler design. "There you go," he said, wiping it clean. "Sun and stars. Suits you two."
We held our wrists side by side, admiring how the black ink stood out against our skin, his olive tone, my paler complexion. If we pressed our wrists together, his sun would align perfectly with my constellation, like they belonged together.
Like we belonged together.
The thought ambushed me, dangerous in its temptation. I couldn't think that way. Not with my prognosis hanging over me like a shadow.
"What do you think?" Rafael asked, mistaking my silence for uncertainty.
"Perfect!" I managed, forcing a smile. "Item three, officially complete."
After Kev covered our fresh tattoos with protective film and we paid, with Rafael insisting on covering both, despite my protests, we stepped out into the warm evening air. The sun had almost set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
"That was..." Rafael started, then shook his head, seeming at a loss for words.
"Intense?" I suggested.
"Yeah." He glanced at his wrist, then at mine. "But good intense."
We walked to where Persephone waited, neither of us in a hurry to end the evening. The past week had shifted something between us, created a new awareness that made even our familiar silences charged with unspoken possibilities.
"Sam" Rafael said suddenly, using my real name instead of Sunny, which he rarely did unless he was being serious. "This bucket list thing... is it really just about breaking out of your shell before college?"
The question caught me off guard. I looked away, watching a moth flutter around a nearby streetlight. "What else would it be about?"
He studied me with an intensity that made me nervous. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like...like you're saying goodbye."
My heart stuttered. "Don't be dramatic," I said, aiming for lightness but missing by a mile. "I'm just trying new things."
"If something was wrong," he pressed, "you'd tell me, right?"
For a painful moment, I considered telling him everything, about the CF, the declining lung function, the prognosis measured in months rather than years. About how every item on that bucket list was something I wanted to experience before I ran out of time.
But then I imagined the pain in his eyes, the way he'd look at me differently...with pity or, worse, with the desperate hope that somehow I could be saved. I couldn't bear either.
"Of course I would." I lied, the words burning my throat worse than any coughing fit. "Nothing's wrong. I promise."
He didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded anyway. "Good. Because you're stuck with me, Sunny. Whether you like it or not."
The irony of his words made my chest ache. If only he knew that he was the one who would be stuck with h memories, with grief, with a sun tattoo that would outlast me.
"Come on," I said, changing the subject.
"May's expecting me back by ten, and we still have time to grab ice cream."