A/N: First Degrassi fic. Follows after the mid-season finale. More or less canon.

I took some liberties with some things. New to this fandom and this ship, so hopefully their characterization is somewhat believable.

Also, for anybody that's reading "Closest I Get" I'll be updating that sometime tomorrow. Didn't wanna clog up things. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

;;

"I think you dropped this."

She jumps up when she hears a voice and is quick to turn around, attempting to identify who owned said voice.

"Adam!"

His shoulders shrug before he extends one of her notebooks to her.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem. See you later."

She stands mute by her locker and he's only a couple of steps away until she calls for him. When he turns around, he swerves just in time before getting run over by a group of students. She tenses at her spot, concerned that he may get hurt.

"That was close," he says, a small smile on his face when he reaches her, readjusting his backpack. "What's up?"

"I, um, was curious to know how the cast celebration went after the final night."

"We had a good time. Had an after party at Fiona's loft afterwards where a bunch of the cast members held a small Romeo & Jules concert. You should've come."

She shakes her head, casts her eyes away. "I don't think they would have wanted me there."

"It's hard to blame them," he says honestly, but he places a soft hand on her arm. "But maybe next semester there'd be a play that's less dramatic off-stage."

She offers him a genuine smile. "Yeah, maybe next semester."

They stand, somewhat awkwardly, with each other though she thinks maybe it's just all of her imagination as he stands in front of her with the same small smile on her face.

"You ever figure out if God forgave you for lying to your parents?"

"What?"

"Opening night. You said you had to seek forgiveness for lying to your parents about being at the play."

"Oh, that! Um, I hope so. I think frizzy hair on rainy days is a good enough punishment. Fingers crossed that it's all it is," she jokes as she raises her crossed fingers at her mussed hair.

Seemingly amused, he laughs and she can't help but join him. "Becky Baker's got jokes."

She casts her eyes away from him, but for a different reason.

"I have a question for you," he says, head cocked to the side.

She steels herself, tries to keep the smile on her face, but just the idea that he even has a question for her puts her a little on edge.

"Sure."

"Okay, I'd been thinking about this for a while, but which of the five senses do you think is God's favorite?"

It's not at all the question that she's expecting, even if she's not quite certain what she's expecting in the first place. "What?"

"Which of the five senses do you think is God's favorite?" he asks again. But the etched confusion of her face doesn't disappear, just deepens.

"Why wouldn't He like them all equally? Like the rest of His creations?"

He chuckles, a little before leaning on the locker. "Humor me. Which one do you think would be his favorite? Sight, smell, taste, hear or touch?"

"Is this some kind of joke? Are you taking a jab at the Christian girl?" Her voice gets surprisingly high and she reminds herself to tone it down; she takes a deep breath, but stands her ground.

"Whoa, no," he says putting his hands up. "I was just honestly curious. I was reading some comics last night and I just got to thinking, you know when you daydream. And I figured you'd be the kind of person who would give me a legit answer."

"Oh." The tension from her shoulders slackens and she offers a small apologetic smile.

"I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry, it's still just kind of hard transitioning and I've gotten crap for my beliefs and-"

"Hey," he interrupts. "Let's not talk religion. It's too early in the morning for that. Just think of it as a poetic question."

Nervous laughter bubbles over and she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "I, uh, that's a tough question."

"Yeah, I'd been wondering about it for like two days. I figured you might offer some of your insight."

"Can I get back to you on it? I'd like to think about it some more."

He smiles at her and she can't help herself when she mirrors it. "Yeah, definitely."

She wants to keep talking to him but she's interrupted as they both hear his name get called from across the hall. It's Eli. She maintains a tight smile on her face as they both look up at him waving for Adam to come over.

When Adam turns around, she faces him and puts her focus away from his best friend. "I gotta go, see you in class or something."

He offers a boyish grin before backing away and meeting Eli and Clare across the hallway. She's still staring at their retreating figures when he turns around and sends her a small wave. She raises her own hand before slowly putting it back down when the three of them turn a corner.

"Yeah, definitely," she echoes.

.

In class later that day, they're given another project as part of a series of mini-projects. They're silent for a lot of class, after they've been given the assignment. But unlike the last time they had a project together, there's no malicious tension between them. She can't help but hope that through her journey at Degrassi, she and Adam someday become real friends.

At one point during class, she finds the two of them hunched over their book, looking for the answers together. She feels particularly proud of herself when he high fives her for an explanation to one of the questions he's uncertain of.

It's silly for her to think so, but she balls her hand for the majority of the day anyway, as if his kind gesture would escape from her hand.

.

She's meditating with her Bible and her prayer journal in bed before going to sleep when she thinks about Adam's question again.

She writes it down on the clear space on the sheet of paper.

If You picked your favorite sense, which would it be?

She taps her pen on the clear space below her question but no answers come to her. So she elaborates on her question.

Sight, smell, hearing, taste, or touch?

She meets the same fate when the tip of her pen only leaves dots on the page from her tapping.

There's a knock on the door before her father appears behind it. She looks up from her journal and smiles up at him.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hi, Daddy."

"Bedtime, it's almost eleven."

"Just finishing up on my prayer journal." He places his hand on the light switch and she takes it as her cue to turn her bedside lamp on.

"All right. Goodnight. I love you," he says just as he turns the lights off, leaving most of her room in shadowed darkness; the soft yellow glow emitting from her lamp.

"I love you too," she says before he pulls the door closed.

When the quiet settles back in her room, she shifts her focus back on her journal. She scribbles down prayers for her family and friends. Satisfied, she closes the books and props them by the lamp before turning it off. When she gets under her covers, hands joined together on her stomach, hair splayed out on her pillow, she closes her eyes and relaxes into her warm bed.

Not five minutes later, she opens her eyes into the darkness of her room and bites her lip in contemplation. After taking a deep breath, she pulls herself up to a sitting position and turns her bedside lamp on. She takes the pen in her hand and opens to the last page she wrote on.

She starts writing, hesitant at first. When she looks at it, she can't decide if she wants to add more or cross it out. After a short internal battle, she tacks on a couple more words after what she's already written. Her pen taps on the page a couple more times, but she's satisfied. Letting out a breath of relief, she closes her book and places it on her Bible. She turns off the light and resettles back in bed.

This time, she sleeps easier, peaceful. The last words from her prayer journal are the last thoughts before she drifts off to sleep.

And I pray for Adam Torres and his life path. Please look after him.

.

He stops by her table in the cafeteria while she and Jenna eat their lunch together. They all exchange warm greetings.

"Oh hey, you figured out the answer to my question?" he asks as he stands at the end of the table with a couple of library books in his hand.

"No, not yet. I'll let you know when I do."

"Cool."

"What about you?"

"I have it down to two, but still no concrete answer. Anyway, I have to get these back to the library. I'll see you guys later."

She offers him a wave goodbye before turning back to her wrap.

"Whoa, what was that?" Jenna asks, disbelief written all over her face. She wants to stay casual, so she avoids Jenna's eyes.

"It was nothing."

"Nothing? The last time he even came up in discussion you were repulsed by the idea of him."

"He and I came to a sort of understanding opening night of the play."

"And what kind of understanding is that?" Jenna raises a brow; she wants to stamp down any kind of suggestion her friend may have about she and him.

"Not whatever it is you're thinking," she says. "He and I are sort of friends now. And that's that, okay?"

Jenna raises her hands in surrender. "Okay. Can I at least ask what his question is?"

She rolls her eyes playfully. "All he asked was which of the five senses did I think was God's favorite: sight, smell, taste, hearing or touch?"

"Huh."

"Yeah, and that's all."

"I didn't even say anything."

"Most people get funny ideas, but I'm of the belief that guys and girls can be friends with each other and nothing more."

Jenna stares at her, but she can tell her friend wants to say something more. But Jenna instead brings her attention to her lunch and laughs when she pushes her tray away.

"Well, if I were you, I would pick anything but taste. I can do without this burger."

.

She stretches her limbs when she gets up from the library table she's occupied for the last two hours. Another hour of her brother's practice and they can go home. She looks around the now deserted library and her eyes land on some of the images hanging on the walls. One in particular catches her eye.

She places her pen on her notebook before walking up to the picture. She thinks it's a photograph, but when she gets right in front of it, she realizes it's a painting. When she reads the caption of a sunrise, she thinks she's found her answer to Adam's question.

.

When they arrive home that night from school, she realizes how distracted she is from the rest of her work because all she can think about is explaining her answer to Adam. She wants to make an impact with her answer and thinks that just telling him about it isn't enough. So she hatches a plan just to show him what she thinks.

.

The next day at school, she approaches Adam at his locker, an excitement buzzing under her skin.

"Hey, Adam."

"Hey, Becky Baker. What's up?"

"So I have an answer."

Adam's looking at her expectantly and she wonders if rolling her eyes would send the wrong message. "For your question about the senses."

The same look is on Adam's face and she can't help but laugh at how his confusion seems even endearing. "Well, are you just going to keep it to yourself?"

She laughs and realizes why he's acting the way he is.

"Oh! No, I was going to tell you but then I realized since we've been thinking about this for a couple of days, I thought I'd make it an actual thing."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we're gonna have like a show and tell about it. Unless you think it's a stupid idea. I know I haven't been the best with ideas around here, but-"

"No, that's awesome. Let's do it. What's your game plan?"

The nervous smile on her face transforms into an excited one and she tells him her idea.

.

When she gets home from school, she finds her mother sitting in her office doing paperwork.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, honey. You're home early."

She steps in her mom's office and perches herself with her arms crossed on the bookshelf on one side of the room.

"Jenna drove me home because I didn't want to wait for Luke to get done with practice."

"Oh okay. Well, is there anything I can do for you? Dinner's gonna be around seven tonight because I have a meeting back at the church in a couple of hours." Her mom's still talking even though she's placed her attention back to the paperwork on her desk.

"Okay, that's fine."

When she doesn't move from her spot, her mom looks up at her again.

"Is something the matter?"

"No, things are fine. But I had a question."

"Well, what is it?"

"I was wondering if I could go watch the sunrise Saturday morning. I wanted to take a walk around the trail at the park and there's a nice hill past some of the trees in the middle and it's a nice view."

Her mother pulls her glasses of her face. "That's a great idea, but I don't want you walking alone. Why don't you bring your brother?"

"I doubt Luke would want to be awake on a day that he can sleep in," she offers, holding out hope. The only way her plan will work is if her parents let her go. Alone.

"I just don't think it's a good idea for you to walk there alone."

"Yeah, but it's this cool part of the park and I've kind of made it my own. And there will be a bunch of joggers by that time. I thought why not just sit there and watch the sunrise and kind of reflect on the past couple of months."

Her mother leans forward. "Why, is there something wrong?"

"No, things are fine! It's been a big transition of moving here and getting acquainted with a new school. Just kind of want to give myself some time to reflect on that. And what plans God may have for me."

Becky's standing right in front of her mother across her desk. "I'll be safe. I'll have my phone with me and it gets service over there. I'll be back by breakfast and it'll be fine."

Her wait must have been shorter than a couple of seconds, but she feels each second tick by excruciatingly. Finally, her mother offers her a small smile before allowing her to go. She beams at her mother before exiting the room.

It's not until she gets to her room that she lets herself take a breather. She's not lying to her mother, per se, because she will be reflecting and praying while she's up there. She just doesn't mention the part that a boy will accompany her.

She thinks she'll just pray for forgiveness that night and hope that it doesn't rain tomorrow.

.

"Is there a reason why we're here before the sun is even up?" he asks when he swats a wandering branch out of his way.

"Yeah, that's the point! Now come on, I don't want you to miss it." She's covering good distances in front of him and she reminds herself to slow it down, her excitement settling uneasily in her chest. She just wants to share this with him.

He catches up to her, breathing slightly heavy.

"Miss what?" he starts. "Your plan was still pretty vague when you told me to meet you at the park obnoxiously early on a Saturday morning."

"I didn't want you to miss this!" she says when they get to the top of the clearing as it overlooks the rest of the park, the sun climbing upward from just above the trees. "Whoa."

His disbelief at the sight before them is encouragement enough. "You asked me which of the five senses I thought would be God's favorite and I think He would choose sight."

He's quiet, alternates looking at her and the sight in front of them. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? I mean, look around us. It's so beautiful. He made all of this for us. When it's beautiful and peaceful like this, I can just see His powers working through the world. Plus, that sunrise! Every time I'm lucky enough to see the sun rise, I think how Magnificent He is. And it's everything else, you know?"

"Like what?"

She looks at him even as he focuses his attention to their surroundings. She thinks that if he had been any other boy, they'd brush off what she says and even get obnoxious. But it warms her heart to see that he's really listening to her.

"Like, just everything. Even though there is a lot of evil and wrong in the world, there are just things so beautiful. Like the sun, the moon, when a child laughs, when someone you love smiles, when you see birds flying and…everything. Some things you just gotta see to believe."

Adam sits silent in his spot, seemingly thoughtful of what she has said.

"What about you? Have you thought of an answer?" she asks when they sit on the green grass.

"Not yet. But I'll get back to you on that one."

It's the most companionable silence that she's shared with him since she met him and she thinks she doesn't mind if the two of them spend more times like these.

He's looking around, a grin on his face. When he looks at her, it widens and she can't help but smile back. After they both fiddle on the grass around them, she clears her throat. "I, uh, wasn't sure if you'd eaten breakfast yet but I made sandwiches."

"Ooh, what kind?"

"Peanut butter and jelly. And I brought some water," she says as she empties her bag.

After he thanks her for the sanwich, he extends his water bottle to her. Shy, she lets her own water bottle clink against hers hearing a quiet tap from the plastic.

"I gotta admit, Becky. This is a sight to see."

"Yeah."

She's staring out onto the picturesque view in front of her, but out of the corner of her eye, she thinks maybe she sees him looking at her.

.

Just before they part at the trail, Adam turns turns to her. "Hey, I think I figured out what my answer is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Can you meet me here at this spot at the same time?"

She hesitates because it means that she has to ask her parents again. But she thinks it won't be a big deal, so she offers Adam a small grin. "Sure, I guess."

He nods, seemingly glad to hear her response; he offers his hand out to her waiting for her to shake it. "Have a good Saturday, Becky Baker."

"You too, Adam."

.

When she gets home, she asks her mother if she can take a walk again the next morning.

"But we have church in the morning."

"Yeah, I know. But I'll be back with plenty of time before we head over to church. I promise."

Her mom brushes a hand over her hair before giving her a small peck on her forehead. "All right, honey."

.

The rest of the day, she meditates with her prayer journal in their patio.

She props her feet on one of the patio chairs across from her. She can feel the heat of the sun on her bare feet.

When she looks back at some of the pages in her prayer journal, she comes across the page where she asked God the question. She scribbles down the word 'sight' on the empty space beside it, a small satisfaction as she does so.

When her eyes linger on the page, she reads his name. She lets her fingers trace the words on the page.

She takes her pen and writes down stuff below her prayer for him. When she's done, she closes her book and grabs hold of the cross around her neck and prays.

Please look over our new friendship.

.

The next morning, she rises out of bed and clothes herself in semi-darkness. The anticipation of what Adam has to show her buzzing in her veins.

Becky offers a small wave when she spots Adam walking in circles at their meeting spot.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

"So, you ready?" she asks. Playful, he extends his hand out in front of them and lets her walk to the direction of the clearing.

"After you," he says.

"What a gentleman," she says with a small laugh, though she genuinely believes it, too.

"I thought about what you said. And I think you bring up really good points."

"But…" she waits as she walks in front of him.

"No buts. However," he says, amusement in his voice, "I'd like to show you something. Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" she asks, turning around when she sees him stop several meters away from the clearing.

"I'm going to ask you to take a blind leap of faith here."

"What?"

"Can you please put this blindfold on? I promise that I will be right beside you the entire time."

"But how can you show me something if I can't see it."

"That's part of all of this. I've already cleared out most of the path so you won't trip. But like I said, I'll be here the entire time."

Reluctantly, she agrees. She decides to take a leap of faith in Adam and lets the boy in front of her put the handkerchief over her eyes.

"Is that okay? I didn't snag your hair did I?" he asks when he's standing inches from her and his arms just by her head. She tries to stand still, try not to think about this boy standing so close to her, in the middle of the woods, asking her to take a leap of faith.

"No, no. You're good."

When she finds herself in complete darkness, she hopes that he hasn't moved away from his spot directly in front of her. Dumbly, she stretches her hand out, tries to get acclimated to her new disposition. When she feels Adam's shoulder in front of her, she lets her hand glide down from his shoulder to his forearm. After reassuring him that they're good to go, he lets her hold his arm and they walk slowly through the remaining path.

Like a new infant, Becky tries to walk slowly, lets her free hand graze the sides of her path, the bark of each tree rough on her palms.

Her tight grip on his arm loosens as they take each step. Her hand starts to anticipate the rough bark of each tree in between the empty spaces surrounding it just as she uses his steady breathing as a guide; the faint padding of their feet on the ground as some means of direction.

When he announces that they've arrived, she doesn't realize that she's holding on to his hand.

He sits her carefully down on the same patch of grass they occupied the day before.

"Can I take the blindfold off now?"

"Nope. Blind leap of faith, remember?"

She knows Adam can't see it, but she rolls her eyes anyway.

"There's more than one way to experience a sunrise, you know."

"What?"

"Just sit still and be quiet."

So she does. As she sits silently, she feels the cool breeze in the space where moments earlier, Adam's hand filled hers. She hears the birds from a distance chirping at one another. She smells the sweet dew of the grass she can almost taste it.

It's slow and subtle at first, but she starts to feel warmth on her skin. It's a warmth that she can't quite explain, not even to herself. It's like cool warmth, when the sun isn't its hottest temperature. It's refreshing, an idea of warmth she hadn't ever thought of before.

"Okay, give me your hands."

"More blind leap of faith?" she asks when she turns her head to the direction of his voice beside her.

"You got it."

"That's your face," she comments when her hands land on something.

"You're right."

"Now guess what kind of emotion I'm expressing."

She hesitates for a second, but she finds her hands roaming his face. She palms his cheeks in her hands and takes a wild guess.

"Are you pouting?"

"Nice."

"Okay how about this one?"

Her hands travel up and down his face and she can feel his cheeks tighten by the eyes. Her thumbs travel down past his nose and to his mouth. She lets herself follow the curve of his lips.

"You're smiling," she guesses.

"Good. How'd you know?"

"I can feel your cheeks, and the corner of your lips."

"Okay, last one."

"Are you-are you supposed to be shocked or something?" she asks when she touches his forehead and it's not smooth. Her left thumb grazes his lips and she can feel that they're not together.

"Yeah," he says with a laugh that she feels under her hands. She props one of her hands on his shoulder and she can feel the vibration of his laughter, how she can feel his cheeks move and his body shakes up and down from the laughter.

Adam reaches forward and pulls the blindfold down.

She squints a little, the bright, rising sun in her eyes.

"I get it," she says when he looks at her, traces of his laughter still in his eyes.

"Do you?"

"I chose sight and you chose touch." He nods before facing forward.

"I thought it'd be the other way around, before you answered."

"Really?" she asks.

"Well, you believe in something you can't really see, but you feel it, don't you? And I believe in something I feel even though others might not see that," he offers, looking directly at her, as if doing so would make her understand better. She doesn't look away from him, instead holds his steady gaze.

She thinks how kind of him to always look her in the eye when talking to her.

"I guess so," she says. He offers her a tight smile before placing his hands behind his head and lying down to watch the sky. She follows his lead and the two of them lie down on the grass, side by side.

She hears the rest of the beautiful world God created and she thinks, maybe, all five of the senses are His favorite. If she listens hard enough, she can hear his calm breathing; it's surprisingly relaxing. Curious to see him, she perches herself up on her elbows and watches him close his eyes.

It's like he's bathing in the sunlight. She doesn't care for hyperboles, but she thinks it's the most beautiful she's ever seen him.

The moment doesn't last long when her stomach involuntarily grumbles. He peeks from one eye to see her embarrassed.

"Oh! I have something that might help that."

He turns to his backpack and opens it.

"So my culinary expertise extends to toast and cereal. And since I was half-awake when I thought of this, I went with the easier meal."

She doesn't hide the amusement on her face when he reveals a thermos, two bowls and a box from his backpack.

"I guess we're going with cereal?"

"I guess we are."

She accepts the spoon and the bowl and waits for Adam to pour some cereal for her. He twists the cap off the thermos and pours some milk, only stopping when she says 'when'.

As he's doing the same for himself, she waits for him, but he stops his preparation to look at her. "Cereal is not delicious when it's soggy."

Without being told twice, she takes a spoonful of cereal in her mouth. Together, they spend their Sunday morning eating their cereal in front of a gorgeous sunrise.

At around 7:45, Becky's phone's alarm rings.

"Oh, shoot! I gotta go. We have church at nine and I told my mom that I'd be back," she says, hurrying to stand and put her empty bowl away.

"Okay," he says, standing up with her. Her movements are frantic and she reminds herself to breathe. She stops herself when she realizes that he's standing there witnessing her act like a loon. So she straightens in front of him and extends a hand.

"Thanks for breakfast. And for this morning."

"Just returning the favor," he says taking her hand and shaking it.

When she starts to head back into the woods, she stops herself and turns around. She takes quick, long strides toward him and doesn't stop until she finds herself holding on to him in a quiet, strong embrace.

"Have a good Sunday, Adam Torres," she says into his shoulder. She hopes that he hears her. The smile on her face is wide and unyielding when she feels, more than hears, him respond by her shoulder.

"You too, Becky."

.

When she returns home, it's her brother sitting casually at the kitchen bar eating breakfast.

"I didn't think you take these walks so seriously," he mentions curiously as she enters the kitchen.

"What?"

"Your neck," he says pointing at the fabric around it before taking another bite of his pancakes.

She panics, remembers that the handkerchief isn't actually hers; but she plays it cool. She clears her throat. "Oh. Yeah, well. I didn't want to get too sweaty."

"Whatever. Just get ready for church. Mom and Dad already went ahead."

"Okay. Thanks, Luke," she says before rushing to her room.

She closes her door and leans against it, clutching at the cloth as if she'd just gotten away with something. And in a way, maybe she has.

She takes the handkerchief and places it on her prayer journal before hopping in the shower and getting ready.

.

That night, she meditates with her Bible and prayer journal. When she looks back at her answer, she makes some extra notes on it. She adds 'touch' beside 'sight' and underlines Adam's name.

She sleeps early that night; dreams of tree barks and blindfolds, patches of grass and the sun.

She holds the handkerchief loosely in her hands the whole night.

.

Monday morning, she wakes up from a restful night of sleep. She's a little disappointed to find out it's raining. But she tries not to let it deter her from having a good day.

As she listens to the fat plops of rain hit her house, she thinks about the last few mornings and she attempts to remember every detail. She's always appreciated the way things looked, but she finds she has a new appreciation for the way things felt; how tree barks are rough on smooth palms, how shoulders rise and fall with each laugh, how lips curl in a smile.

She didn't just see the sunrise, she felt it. It's the oddest thing to think that a boy like him, from such a different background, taught her a thing or two about faith.

When she gets to school, she jumps in surprise when he pops up holding one of her notebooks.

"You dropped this," he says as he holds out her notebook for her.

She takes it, embarrassed, but still with a smile on her face.

"Hey your hair looks normal today. No frizz. Maybe you're forgiven," he jokes.

She laughs along, touched that he remembers the things she says. When the laughter dies down, she takes a deep breath and looks him in the eye.

"Hey, so I um, wanted to thank you." He cocks his head to one side, curious.

"For what?"

"Teaching me."

"I did? What'd I teach you?"

"Just, perspective I guess. After those two gorgeous sunrises with you, it just got me to think and I prayed about our time together and to look at things differently."

"Well I'm glad. But I should thank you, too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, um, I hadn't really ever visited that park and it's gorgeous. And just the idea of waking up to watch the sunrise just gave me so much energy. It was pretty breathtaking."

She beams at him and her smile widens when he returns it.

"Anyway, I gotta meet some of the WhisperHug members to set up a time to practice today. I'll see you in class?"

"Sure, yeah."

When he turns around and gets about a meter away, she calls for him back. A sense of déjà vu passes through her and she has to remind herself to pay attention.

"Oh, I have your handkerchief."

"Keep it. No big deal."

She doesn't understand why the idea of keeping it makes her happy, but it does. And before she knows it, the words tumble out of her mouth.

"I'll be there this weekend."

"What?"

"At the clearing," she clarifies. "I'll be there this weekend for the sunrise, if you wanted to join me again. Maybe I'll bring some cereal this time."

"Yeah, definitely," he says before waving at her and disappearing out of her sight.

"Yeah, definitely," she echoes softly.

.

As she sits around her class waiting for the bell to ring, she notices a peeking glimpse of the sun from the trees outside their classroom window. She closes her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the miracle that is the sun's appearance to an otherwise drab and rainy Monday.

Just before the bell rings, she opens her eyes and witnesses Adam laughing at something in front of her. She doesn't stop herself from smiling because of him. She's reminded of a refreshing kind of warmth that grazes her skin. And she remembers touching his shoulder, his forearm, his hand, his face. She remembers feeling his laughter, his smile, his kindness.

But as she sits through the lecture, even though it's only happened twice, what she most remembers is the feel of holding him in her arms.

And she thinks that he feels a lot like sunrise.

A/N: Only half-tempted to write from Adam's perspective, so this story is, at the moment, a one-shot. Thanks.