My alarm goes off at six in the morning. I force myself to get out of bed and get ready. Twenty minutes later, I find the car keys in the kitchen and head for the door. The moment I step outside, I want to go back in and grab a jacket. Summer mornings are weirdly cold, especially when the sun is barely up. The sky's that nice sunrise pink color, though, so it's late enough to hear the birds chirping and light enough to see Idris sitting on the porch steps.

He stands as I shut the door behind me. He smiles, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Hey."

I arch an eyebrow, rubbing my arms. "I know we agreed you'd come here, but isn't it a little early?"

He shrugs. "I was excited to spend the day with you. Plus, my family gets up pretty early, so I thought it was a good idea to get up extra early."

I guess that makes sense. "Were you waiting long?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all." He studies me. "Are you cold?"

I nod, letting out a breath. "A little bit." Idris doesn't hesitate to close the distance between us and fold me into a hug. I relax in his arms, resting my head against his chest. "We could've just gotten in the car and turned on the heat."

He laughs, his chest rumbling. "I like this better."

I snuggle deeper into him. "Me too."

And I can't help but think it'd be nice to just stay in his arms for the rest of my life.

I take a deep breath and force myself to pull away. "We should go. Maybe stop somewhere to get coffee."

Idris nods. I lead the way to the car, sliding into the driver's seat while Idris gets in the passenger seat. After I adjust the mirrors and the seat, I start the car and drive. We stop once at a diner for coffee and breakfast, but after that, we keep driving to Woodworth. I'm behind the wheel for the entire three hours, and I let out a breath when I finally park in front of the house.

"I'll drive the three hours back," Idris says, unbuckling his seatbelt. I nod, pulling out my phone to text my parents that we made it safely. While I do, Idris looks from me to the house and back. "So this is the house you grew up in?" I nod. "Give me a tour?"

I laugh, tucking my phone away. "There's not much to show."

"I still want to see everything."

I shrug. "Sure. We have time."

I lead the way up the porch and unlock the front door. When we step in, Idris insists on looking at all the pictures around the living room. He asks questions about some, but he mostly just laughs and smiles at the pictures of me as a kid in costume, makeup smeared all over my face because I insisted on doing it myself. He has a more contemplative look at the ones of me holding up trophies from talent shows or dressed in costume with castmates.

"What's this one?" he asks.

I look at the picture he points to on the bookshelf. I'm standing in front of a table stacked with copies of Thundering Daybreak, wearing a blue áo dài with see-through bell sleeves and an imperial collar. I can't remember who did my hair and makeup that day—either Sarina or Mẹ—but they really took the etheral vibe to the next level: my hair is in a cascading half updo with orchids scattered throughout the curls and there's blue glitter at the corners of my eyes.

"Oh," I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Whenever my dad had a book signing in town, I would dress up as Âu Cơ and read some scenes from whatever book he was releasing. I took pictures with kids and signed books—Why are you looking at me like that?"

Idris' smile widens. "Because you're amazing. Why else?" He looks back at the picture. "Didn't you tell me once that you always thought you were more dragon than fairy?"

I nod. "Yeah, but I think I pull off the fairy look better than the dragon look."

Idris interlaces our fingers. "You'd be cute as either one." He squeezes my hand. "I want to see this in person one day."

"You really don't."

He looks at me like I'm stupid. "Uh, yes, I do. It was probably really adorable."

"The kids were definitely adorable."

He squeezes my hand. "I meant you were probably adorable." I smile, making him sigh. "I wish you blushed more, though."

I bump him with my shoulder. "Sorry, I don't blush at every little thing like you do."

He bumps me back. "I know you don't. Just when I say you're talented." Right on cue, I feel the tips of my ears warm. He smiles. "Like that."

I pull my hand away with a huff before turning to the stairs. I hear him laugh and follow me upstairs to my room. Like he did downstairs, Idris wanders around the room. He smiles at the pictures and decorations I have up here, too. The pictures. The sunset pink walls. The curtain of fairy lights hanging along my headboard. The only time he looks quizzical is when he stops by a wall with hooks that don't have anything hanging on them.

"Was there anything here?" he asks, turning to me.

I nod. "Yeah. After every play, I was allowed to take one prop as a souvenir. I took them all down when I stopped acting."

Idris frowns. "Did you give them away?"

I shake my head, kneeling by my bed. I throw the blanket up to reveal the space beneath. Idris peers under the bed with me, and his eyes widen at all the props. He helps me drag them out, so I can get my guitar. I don't want to look at any of them, but my eyes wander.

"What was each role?" he asks. "Do you remember?"

I nod, pointing out which prop went with which role. Fedora for a detective. Crown for a princess. Sword for a knight. Boa for a diva. The more props I go through, the more I feel a weird weight settle on my chest. It's been a long time since I've thought about any of this. I don't want to admit that I'm starting to feel nostalgic, but...

Better not to think about it too much.

Except Idris must sense where my thoughts are trying to go. He frowns and puts a hand on my knee. "Are you okay?"

I nod, reaching for my guitar. "Yeah. I'm fine. Let's go. Long drive back."

He puts a hand on my arm. "Don't you want to put these back up before we go?"

I blink. "I don't think it matters."

Idris shrugs. "It might." He picks up the sword and hands it to me handle-first. "These are all accomplishments, you know? You should show them off."

I take the sword from him, holding it in my lap. Just looking at it brings back a flood of memories from all those painstaking hours of choreography I had to go through just for the one scene I used it in. I reach for the crown and carefully hold it in my hand. My mind flashes back to how important I felt on stage with this on my head. Like I was a completely different person.

I swallow and slowly look up at Idris. "Okay. We can take a moment to put them all up again."

Idris doesn't hesitate to help me drag the rest of the props out from under the bed and put them back on display. The last prop we put up is the sword, and Idris tells me I should do the honors. I gently lay it across two hooks and take a step back, my eyes darting from prop to prop. My chest weirdly starts to stir. Not the weight from earlier. Something different. Maybe nostalgia but also... regret... for not acting or taking home props anymore.

Idris wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind and kisses the top of my head. "You okay?"

I nod, leaning back against him. "Yeah. I'm fine." I swallow and turn, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I guess we should start heading back."

He presses another kiss to the top of my head. "We don't have to leave so soon."

I pull away to smile up at him. "What do you wanna do?"

The corners of his lips turn up. He opens his mouth to respond, but his phone rings, cutting off whatever he was going to say. He keeps one arm around me while he digs it out of his pocket. I try not to look at his screen, but when his smile slips, I take a glance. It's his mom. Ugh... I try not to scowl, but even if I do, I don't think Idris takes any offense from it.

He takes a deep breath and answers. "Hello?" His voice is completely monotone. That always makes me feel like he's a million miles away. But maybe that's the point. If I feel that way, then Idris probably wants to feel that way himself when he's talking to anyone in his family. "Yeah. I left at like six... I thought maybe I could clean up around the house when I got home today instead of doing it before I left." He tenses. "No, I just—"

His eyes glaze over as his mom starts yelling at him, switching between Tagalog and English like she's not sure which language will be harsher and wants to use both. I don't think it matters which language she speaks in, though. I can hear the disappointment and disgust in her voice like Idris doing chores later than usual is the worst thing she can imagine her son doing.

"I'm sorry," Idris eventually says, his voice quiet. "I'll—"

He flinches as he pulls his phone away from his ear, staring at the post-call screen. He lets his hand drop to his side, and he stares straight ahead. I gently lay my hand over his heart, and he blinks, looking down at me like he forgot I was here.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He nods slowly. "Yeah. I'm okay."

I press my hand a little more firmly against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Idris shakes his head, pulling me into a hug. "No. I don't want to bring down the mood."

I pull away enough to look up at him. "You won't. If you need to talk about it—"

Idris shakes his head again. "I don't. I promise."

My eyes flicker across his face. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are tinged a little pink from unshed tears. But I can't make him talk to me if he doesn't want to, so I nod. "Do you want to do anything?"

"Can you play the violin for me?"

I blink. "What?"

"Can you play the violin for me?" he repeats. "I haven't heard you play it live before and..." He glances away. "I think it'll help me relax a little and take my mind off of things."

I hesitate. I want to say no even if I'm starting to crave performing again, but if it makes him feel better... I nod.

He smiles and walks back to the bed, lying down on his stomach. He crawls under the bed to retrieve the violin case. When he comes back out, dust clings to his hair, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just smiles as he holds it out to me.

I kneel in front of Idris and take the black case from him. I set it on the floor between us and open it, taking in the way the violin still gleams after being shut in its case for a year. When I glance up, Idris looks at me expectantly. I look back at the violin, carefully taking it out of its case and grabbing the bow. I rest my chin on the chinrest and gently set the bow on the strings. From there, I kind of take off, not sure what I'm playing but continuing anyway. The longer I play, the more I realize how much effort it takes not to cringe at how bad it sounds. I'm pretty sure I'm pressing the bow down too hard, and I'm not releasing the strings fast enough.

But whenever I look at Idris, he's all smiles with awe in his eyes. I don't think he should look at me like that, but I'll take it over him on the verge of tears because of his parents any day.

"That was really good," he says when I'm done with the song.

"Not really," I laugh, putting the violin and bow back in the case.

Idris kisses me when I look up. He sits back with a smile. "You did great. I loved it. Thank you."

I shut the case and move to sit on the bed. "It could've been better."

Idris joins me on the bed, taking my hand. "I think you're too hard on yourself. You're amazing." I already feel the heat in my cheeks. I guess it shows because Idris smiles and his tone turns teasing. "You're really talented. I could listen to you sing and play instruments for the rest of my life."

I pull my hand out of his and shift away. "Sometimes you make me regret being your girlfriend." Just like that, Idris is the one blushing and shifting away from me while my voice turns teasing. "I'm your girlfriend, aren't I?"

He looks down at his hands. "Yeah. I guess."

I raise my eyebrows, leaning towards him. "You guess?"

His face turns a few shades darker as he turns to me, holding his hands up like he's pleading for his innocence. "I mean, I know. I know we're together. I know that you're my girlfriend."

I nod, swatting him on the shoulder. "Yeah. Glad we're on the same page, Idris."

His face is still dark from embarrassment, but he manages to offer me a smile. "I'm glad we're on the same page, too."

That takes all the teasing out of me, and I lean forward to kiss him on the cheek. I pull back, running a hand through his hair. He leans into my touch, his expression softening. I want nothing more than to stay in this moment with him right now, and I'm about to suggest as much, but he beats me to it.

"Do you think we can stay for the rest of the day?" he asks, reaching for my violin case. "You're not meeting with Amalia today, right?"

I shake my head, eyeing the violin case in his lap. I don't need to bring it since I'm only teaching Amalia how to play the guitar, but I guess he wants me to. And I would do anything for him right now if it means I can keep seeing him smile. I have a feeling being as far away as possible from his mom right now will do just that.

"Right." I grab my guitar case as I stand. "We can stay for the day if you want to."

He stands, taking my free hand. "Show me your favorite places? And everything you did growing up?"

I smile. "Sure. Let's do it."