The Safety Of Us
Country:Japan
City: Kyoto
Alvara
I stood at the bottom of the stairs, coat flapping gently in the morning wind, watching the Hawthorne crest catch the pale sunrise.
Even after a handful of flights on this jet, it still felt a little unreal, less like a plane and more like Grayson had simply decided the sky needed better furniture.
He came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist from the back. His chin rested on my shoulder.
"You're doing that thing again," he said, voice low and warm against my ear.
"What thing?"
"Looking at it like you're waiting for it to disappear."
I laughed softly and leaned back into him.
"Old habits. Some of us didn't grow up with wings on standby."
He turned me in his arms, one hand settling at the small of my back beneath my coat.
The warmth of his palm soaked through my sweater instantly.
"You belong to it now. Same as me."
Inside, it felt like slipping into our own little world. Cream leather, dark wood, the faint scent of fresh flowers by the windows.
My tea was already waiting on the table exactly the way I liked it, because of course it was. I picked up the cup and took a sip, eyes closing for a second.
Grayson watched me with that quiet, pleased expression .
"You're dangerous when you're thoughtful," I said.
He stepped closer, fingers brushing my wrist. "You like me dangerous."
"Unfortunately."
Takeoff was smooth, the kind of quiet power that still made my stomach flutter a little.
I curled up by the window, watching Auremont shrink beneath us, while Grayson worked across from me for a bit.
Sleeves rolled, reading glasses low on his nose, watch catching the light every time he typed. I stared longer than I meant to.
He glanced up and caught me.
"See something you like?"
"You in glasses is still unfair," I admitted. "You already had the whole tall, stupidly handsome thing working for you."
His mouth curved. He closed the laptop, crossed the space between us, and sank down beside me.
One arm draped along the back of my seat, fingers playing absently with the ends of my hair.
"Come here," he murmured.
I went willingly, shifting until I was half in his lap, my head against his chest.
His heartbeat was steady under my cheek. He pressed a slow kiss to my temple, then another to the corner of my mouth.
His hand slid under my sweater to rest warm against my bare back, thumb stroking lazy circles that made me melt a little more into him.
We stayed like that for a long time kissing softly, talking in low voices about nothing important, just the comfort of being close.
His fingers traced patterns on my skin while I played with the collar of his sweater.
Every now and then he'd pull back just enough to look at me, that deep, seeing-too-much look that always made my chest feel too full.
Halfway through the flight, my phone buzzed.
Isabella.
I answered on speaker so Grayson could hear, his chin resting on my shoulder.
" Vivienne just approved the final floral arrangements and they're insane, in the best way. The cherry blossom theme is going to destroy everyone."
Grayson chuckled, his breath warm against my neck.
"We're behaving. Mostly."
Vivienne's voice came through next, sounding like she was multitasking.
"The linens arrived. Soft ivory with the subtle gold threading you wanted, Alvara. And the calligrapher finished the invitations. They look like art. But the venue coordinator is asking again about the string quartet versus the small orchestra for the ceremony. Thoughts?"
I glanced at Grayson. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at how quickly wedding talk had followed us into the sky.
"String quartet for the ceremony," I decided. "Orchestra for the reception. Keep it intimate at first."
"Perfect," Vivienne said. "I'll confirm. Also, the cake tasting samples are scheduled for when you're back. I already blocked the time."
We wrapped up the call with a few more details, seating charts, a minor menu adjustment, and then I tossed the phone aside, laughing quietly as Grayson pulled me back against him.
"They're enjoying this more than we are," I said.
He kissed the side of my neck slowly.
"Let them. I just want you relaxed for once."
Kyoto wrapped around us like a soft exhale the moment we landed.
The air smelled of early spring cool, a little damp, carrying hints of blooming trees.
Our hotel overlooked a private garden where cherry blossoms were just starting to open, pale pink against dark branches.
The first evening, we wandered the narrow streets hand in hand, no heavy security nearby, just us and the lantern light.
At the river, petals drifted down like quiet snow.
I shivered once in the March air, and Grayson immediately shrugged off his coat and settled it over my shoulders.
It smelled like cedar and warmth.
"You'll freeze," I protested.
"I'll suck it up," he said simply, tugging the collar closer around me.
Then he pulled me in, arms around my waist, forehead resting against mine.
"I missed this. Just you. No press. No schedules breathing down our necks."
I reached up and touched his face, thumb brushing his cheek.
"I missed you too. Even when you were right beside me these last few weeks."
His eyes softened.
He kissed me there by the water slowly, deeply.
His hands slipped under his own coat to rest at my lower back, holding me close while petals caught in my hair.
When we finally pulled apart, he kept his arms around me, swaying us gently like we had all the time in the world.
Later that night in our suite, we tangled up in the big bed after room service.
His fingers traced lazy paths along my spine as I lay half across his chest.
We talked about the wedding in low voices, how Isabella wanted dramatic lighting and Vivienne kept sending perfect little mood boards, between long, unhurried kisses that left us both smiling and a little breathless.
He rolled us so I was beneath him, supporting his weight on one forearm while his other hand slid along my hip.
"I can't wait to marry you," he whispered against my mouth.
"But I'm also perfectly happy stealing every second of this with you right now."
I smiled up at him, fingers threading through his hair. "Excellent. Because I'm not done stealing them either."
The next couple of days blurred into something soft and golden.
Late mornings in bed with his legs tangled in mine.
Sex anywhere not thinking if it was convenient or not.
Breakfasts where he stole bites from my plate even after ordering his own.
Quiet walks through temples and gardens, his hand always finding mine.
Another call from Vivienne while we were curled up by the window looking at the city lights, he answered it with me in his lap, one arm around my waist, pressing occasional kisses to my shoulder while we confirmed details.
Every moment felt easy.
Like breathing again.
And as the third evening settled over Kyoto, with lanterns glowing in the garden below and Grayson's heartbeat steady under my ear, I didn't want to be anywhere else.