Cecilia - Seventeen
I woke to the feeling of sunlight on my skin. Not just a flicker, but the full weight of morning light slanting in through unfamiliar blinds.
I hadn’t planned to fall asleep.
One minute I was curled up on Theo’s sofa, his arm around me, the deck of cards forgotten on the table. Now, here I was lying next to him in his bed, still swathed in my dress from the previous night.
He looked like a painting. Head turned slightly towards me, hair tousled, the faintest crease in his brow as if dreaming something serious.
My body still remembered the way he touched me.
My lips still tingled from how he’d kissed me — like he’d waited years to do it properly and, in a way, I’m sure he had.
I stayed for a moment. Just breathing. Letting my eyes trace the shape of him, every line and dip and freckle I'd somehow memorised in a single night.
Then I slid from beneath the covers. Not because I wanted to leave, but because the kiss — those kisses — had left my head in a spin, and I needed to steady it before I saw him again .
I crept out barefoot, the terracotta tiles cool against the soles of my feet as I padded down the hall and towards the kitchen, praying the rustling noises I could hear was a sign Siena was already up and raiding the pantry.
As I rounded the corner, I realised Siena wasn’t alone and both her and Rae, still clad in their pyjamas, sat having a morning hair styling session.
Siena sat in a chair near the bench, head tilted slightly forward, while Rae stood on a little stool behind her, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on braiding Siena’s hair.
“I’m doing it ,” Rae said, gently tugging a section. “You have to go slow or it gets messy.”
“Consider me educated,” Siena said, perfectly still, a playful edge in her voice.
I stepped into the room, smiling. “Morning.”
Rae turned around instantly. “Cece! You’re awake.”
“Apparently,” I said, eyeing the proud look on her face. “And clearly I missed the appointment list at your salon.”
“She wanted to see Senna,” Siena said, giving me a quick once-over. “And I was too tired to say no.”
“Senna?” I echoed.
“She means me ,” Siena said. “But Rae has decided my name needs improvement.”
“I am saying it,” Rae insisted. “Senna.”
I laughed softly and came over to lean against the bench. “You’re doing an excellent job, Rae. That braid’s better than anything I’ve managed with my own hair in months.”
“I know,” Rae said seriously. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“Very,” I said, meeting Siena’s eyes with a smile. “She’s making you beautiful.”
Rae nodded proudly. “I love her hair, it’s all red and curly. I wish my hair was like this.”
“Your hair is beautiful already hunny,” Siena said softly to Rae and Rae softly stroked her head in response, the small action pulling at my heartstrings. Nate’s daughter had clearly become very fond of my best friend.
I glanced at Siena again, her expression soft. Her shoulders were relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in days. There was something oddly grounding about the scene — the quiet of the kitchen, the soft scrape of Rae’s fingers working through hair, the way Siena let her do it without fuss.
Siena’s eyes trailed up my body, taking note of the fact I was definitely not wearing pyjamas, hadn’t brushed my hair and looked like somebody who had not spent last night in her own room.
“Did you sleep well Cece?” Siena asked and I could hear the teasing tone loud and clear in her voice.
“Mmmhmm,” I mumbled in response.
“I love your dress,” she said pointedly and I shot her a narrowed glance. “Your breakfast attire wouldn’t have anything to do with a long-lost friend whose room you disappeared into last night, would it?”
I blinked at her. “There are little ears in the room.”
“I am listening,” Rae said immediately.
“See?” I whispered, mouthing code at Siena.
She grinned. “Alright. Give me the PG version. ”
I exhaled, my voice low. “I may have k-i-s-s-e-d him and he may have k-i-s-s-e-d me back. And then I stayed the night and we played cards.”
Her smile was slow and knowing. “And how are we feeling this morning?”
“Like I need my brain to catch up with my body,” I said. “It was… a lot. Not in a bad way. Just in a I-want-to-freak-out-and-throw-up-and-k-i-s-s-him-again kind of way.”
“That’s a very specific category.”
“Please help me and my overthinking brain!” I pleaded, taking the seat next to her.
Before she could answer, heavy footsteps sounded down the hallway, and Nate appeared, still tugging a shirt over his head. His hair was messy, and he looked half-asleep.
“Morning,” he said, eyes falling to Rae first. “Sorry I wasn’t up earlier darling to hang out.”
Rae shrugged without looking away from Siena’s hair. “It’s fine. I had Senna.”
His eyes flicked to Siena. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” she said, giving him a small smile. “We’ve been very productive.”
“What’ve you two been up to?” Nate asked, stepping closer.
Rae turned proudly. “I did her hair daddy. Look.”
He crouched next to her, inspecting the braid. “That’s lovely, Rae. Seriously.”
“I’m making her beautiful,” Rae said, repeating my compliment from earlier. “Can you see daddy? ”
“I can,” Nate said, voice quiet. “You’re doing an amazing job darling.”
Siena’s eyes darted toward him, and I watched the subtle flicker of something pass between them. A pause. A breath. And then Rae said, far too casually—
“We also gossiped.”
Siena choked on a laugh. “Did we?”
“Yep,” Rae said. “About Uncle Theo.”
Nate’s brows lifted. “Oh really? What about him?”
Rae grinned. “Cece was kissing him.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth. “I did not tell your daughter that.”
“You were red ,” Rae insisted, pointing to her own cheeks. “Like this. All blushing.”
Siena burst into giggles. “She’s not wrong.”
“I swear I said nothing ,” I said helplessly, eyes wide.
“Yes, you did! I’m not a baby; I can spell you know!” Rae giggled and I could hardly be annoyed with the gorgeous bundle of joy. I have underestimated the spelling ability of a near six-year-old.
“Oh god,” I muttered, pressing my fingers into my temples. I could feel myself blushing even more. Thankfully Nate didn’t say anything, I think he was too distracted by his daughter and the way she was braiding Siena’s hair. Or maybe he was too distracted by the pair of them, I couldn’t tell.
And then another voice joined the room.
“Well, this seems lively for nine in the morning.”
Theo stood in the doorway, rubbing his neck, his smile slightly sheepish.
My stomach did a little somersault.
Rae turned in his direction with the kind of dramatic flair only a five-year-old could master.
“Uncle Theo! Your cheeks are red too!”
He blinked. “My cheeks are not red.”
“They are ,” Rae insisted. “’Cause you’ve been kissing Cece!” She was ecstatic and completely unaware of her words, which made the whole thing even more harmless.
For a heartbeat, no one said anything.
Then Theo grinned and swept Rae up into his arms, spinning her once.
“You’ve been spreading rumours, you menace,” he said, tickling her ribs.
She shrieked, delighted, as Siena and I exchanged a helpless look and Nate chuckled softly behind us.
And despite the flush in my cheeks and the absolute mortification blooming in my chest, I couldn’t stop smiling.
Because Rae wasn’t wrong and neither was my face.
The villa’s terrace was still warm from the sun, stone beneath my thighs, the scent of rosemary and salt lingering in the air. I’d showered earlier, trying to wash the night from my skin — but no amount of soap could erase the way Theo had looked at me. The way his hands had fit around my waist.
Now, my journal lay open on my lap, the pen resting between my fingers as I stared at the half-finished sentence I’d been trying to write for ten minutes .
We kissed.
It was all I had so far.
Which felt ridiculous, considering how much I’d felt .
Footsteps approached, slow and careful across the paving stones, and I didn’t even need to look up to know it was him.
“Brought you this,” Theo said gently. He held out a glass of cold water, condensation beading at the sides.
“Thank you.” I took it, letting our fingers brush.
His eyes dropped to my lap. “Will I make it into your famous journal?”
I lifted a brow. “You want me to write about you?”
“That depends,” he said, crouching beside my chair. “Do you think I’m worth writing about?”
In my head, I answered instantly. Of course. In every version of every life.
But out loud, I tipped my head with a small smile. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
His gaze held mine. There was no teasing in it now — no smirk, no playful glint. Just that familiar steadiness. That pull I’d always felt and tried to bury.
We both opened our mouths to speak at the same time.
“You go—”
“No, you—”
Theo held up a hand. “Let me. I just… I need to get this out.”
I set the glass down on the table beside me.
“I know you probably left this morning because you felt overwhelmed,” he said. “Or scared. And that’s okay. I’m not putting any pressure on you. Or this. But…” He paused, raking a hand through his hair. “Last night was good, right? Like, really good. And I just—I hope you don’t regret it.”
I exhaled slowly. “I don’t. Not at all.”
He stayed silent, watching me.
“But I’m not sure what I’m ready for,” I admitted. “I don’t know how much of myself I can give right now. And you’ve just come out of something with Natalie. Maybe this is just... a rebound. A fling. Maybe you want something casual and—”
“I don’t do casual,” he cut in softly. “Not with you. There’s nothing casual about the way I feel about you, Celia.”
His voice was low but certain.
“Six years ago, we kissed. And then you acted like you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. And I let you. I didn’t push. But I’ve thought about that night more times than I can count. And I just need to know that this isn’t that again.”
I shook my head. “It’s not.”
He nodded once, took a breath, and leaned his arms on the arm of my chair, eyes level with mine.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you again, not really.
Not like this. But from the second I did, it was like the years just…
fell away. You still laugh the same. You still furrow your brow when you’re thinking too hard.
And I still want to know what’s going on in your head every time you get quiet. ”
My heart thudded against my ribs .
“You make me nervous,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Like I’m seventeen again and I’ve just spotted you across the room and I don’t know what to do with myself.”
I didn’t mean to lean forward. My body just moved.
My hand reached for his cheek, thumb brushing against the stubble there. And then I kissed him.
This time, it wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t soft or uncertain.
It was everything.
Theo’s mouth opened beneath mine, warm and sure, and I felt the groan reverberate in his chest before I heard it. His hands threaded into my hair, not just holding me but anchoring me, his thumbs sweeping along my jawline as if memorising every angle.
My skin burned where he touched me.
When his tongue met mine, slow and certain, I whimpered into his mouth and he pulled me closer, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other moved down to my hip, guiding me forward.
I shifted on the seat, inching closer, trying to erase the space between us and in the motion, my knee bumped the edge of the table, snagging the corner of my journal.
Paper ripped.
We both froze.
I pulled away, breathless, my lips tingling and my skin flushed.
“Sorry,” I panted.
Theo grinned, eyes flicking to the torn page, then back to me. “Don’t be sorry.”
His voice was husky .
“I can’t think when you kiss me like that,” I said, cheeks still burning.
He laughed, and for a moment, everything else melted away.
“Now you know how I feel.”
I looked at him and there was only sun and salt and the weight of his gaze on mine.