Cassy woke up earlier than usual, her eyes catching the numbers "5:11 AM" displayed on the digital clock beside her bed. Sunny was still deep in her own dreamland, cocooned in the fluffy blankets. Cassy took a moment to appreciate the serenity, then quietly stepped out of the room.
As she wandered into the living area, she was surprised to find Altair coming through the front door. He had a towel looped around his neck, and his shirt bore the telltale dampness of a morning workout.
"Good morning," Cassy greeted, her eyes narrowing slightly as they adjusted to the waking world.
Altair's smile emerged—that specific one that never failed to disarm her. "Good morning," he returned, his eyes briefly scanning her face. "You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep too well," she admitted, fighting to keep her face neutral in the wake of his compelling smile. "And what about you? What have you been up to so early?"
"I just got back from a jog. Oh, and I picked up some ingredients; I thought we could cook breakfast together," Altair said, motioning to a bag of groceries near the door.
Energized by Altair's idea, Cassy's mood instantly lifted. "That sounds like a perfect plan! I'll get the coffee started."
As she flicked switches and pressed buttons on the coffee machine, Altair took that as his cue to freshen up, disappearing down the hallway toward the bathroom. Soon enough, the delightful aroma of brewing coffee blended seamlessly with the crisp, minty air unique to Baguio, filling the room like a warm embrace.
Cassy found herself lost in the domesticity of it all. It was as if they were playing house, but it didn't feel like play. Not really. As the coffee brewed, her thoughts also churned, whirling like a carousel of what-ifs and maybes.
Altair returned, freshly showered, just as Cassy was pouring the dark, steaming liquid into two mugs. As she turned to offer him one, she found herself almost startlingly close to him. Their eyes met, locking into a gaze that seemed to freeze the room in a pocket of time. The morning sunlight streamed through the balcony door, framing Cassy's face in a golden glow and making her eyes sparkle like jewels. For a fleeting second, it was as if they had stepped into an ethereal world where only the two of them existed.
From her spot in the hallway, Sunny couldn't help but notice the palpable intimacy of that moment and the unspoken words hovering in the air between them.
"Smells great." Altair finally broke the silence, his voice laced with an emotion he couldn't quite put a finger on as he reached for the cup Cassy was holding out.
"Yes," Cassy agreed, her voice softly echoing his sentiment. But it was clear to both of them—she wasn't just talking about the coffee.
The road before them lay bathed in sunlight, its curves gently hugging the hilly terrain blanketed in a lush sea of pine trees. With each twist and turn, Baguio's enchanting landscape seemed to beckon them to pause and drink in the view. Cassy, Sunny, and Altair found it impossible to resist these siren calls. They would pull the van over near some especially magnificent overlooks, each time clambering out with cameras poised, ready to seize fragments of their day in digital form.
Their first photograph immortalized a candid scene: Cassy and Sunny stood with their backs to the camera, both caught in a spontaneous burst of laughter. The joy in the image was palpable, captured forever in pixels and stored memory.
Altair took the second photograph, a poetic shot of Cassy. She was lost in thought, not looking at the camera. Her hair danced freely in the wind, and a serene smile rested on her lips. It was as if the sun itself had conspired to grace the shot, draping her in a soft, natural light that made her appear as if she were an intrinsic part of the landscape's allure.
Altair's artistry shone again in the third photograph. This time, Cassy was caught mid-stride. Her eyes met the camera head-on, radiant and unguarded, framed by an effervescent smile. Her hands were casually tucked into her jacket pockets, capturing the easygoing nature of the day.
The final photograph was a tribute to Sunny. Her smile dominated the frame, radiant and unfiltered—a crystalline moment of sheer joy frozen in time. It was as though her happiness had been distilled into a single snapshot, capturing the essence of their day.
Inside the van, the ambiance was thick with playful teasing interspersed with the subtle snap of camera shutters. Sunny, the clandestine photographer of the group, had a knack for capturing unguarded moments. Altair and Cassy, often the unwitting subjects of her craft, filled her gallery today.
The first image painted a serene picture of Altair and Cassy in profile, their gazes directed outside the van, seemingly lost in thoughts or perhaps sharing silent communication.
In the second frame, Cassy was captured in mid-laughter. Whatever Jest Altair had whispered in her ear was a secret, but the joy it sparked in her was evident. Altair's eyes, however, held a depth of affection as he watched her.
The third snapshot was more intimate. With their gazes locked onto Altair's phone, the duo's heads leaned close. Their foreheads were a hair's breadth apart, suggesting a sense of comfort and familiarity.
These candid moments encapsulated more than mere instances; they portrayed the heartbeats and emotions behind them.
Emerging from the confines of the vehicle, the verdant expanses of Camp John Hay greeted them. This sanctuary of nature, bound by the cerulean embrace of the sky and the solid foundation of the earth, played host to their outing. Settling in a quaint spot that offered a breathtaking panorama, Altair and Cassy spread out a picnic blanket, arranging a delightful array of snacks at its center.
Amidst the serenity of their surroundings, the distinct sound of a potato chip bag being torn open echoed. Sunny, relishing every crunchy morsel, didn't let the beauty of their surroundings distract from her snack. Concurrently, Cassy's hands delved into the basket, revealing a sleek, portable tumbler. She poured a stream of aromatic coffee into a cup. The coffee's rich scent seemed to dance with the fresh pine aroma that surrounded them. Handing the cup to Altair, she caught his eyes.
"Your favorite, Productivity Coffee," Cassy declared, a hint of mischief playing in her eyes.
Taking a careful sip, the warmth of the drink mirrored the warmth in Altair's eyes as he responded, "You remembered."
Cassy, with a playful tilt to her head, responded, "Well, considering I aim to be your wife, I figured the least I could do is recall your peculiar coffee preferences."
Overhearing their exchange and never one to miss out on juicy information, Sunny chimed in with feigned shock, "Hold on a second! Are wedding bells on the horizon?"
Cassy, caught slightly off-guard, replied with an air of nonchalance, "Why not?" Her words hung in the air, causing a momentary stillness in their idyllic setting.
The words had just slipped out of Cassy's mouth, and for a moment, she was taken aback by her own audacity. "Did I just hint at a wedding? And why did it feel so right? I was just playing along, wasn’t I?" she thought, her heart skipping a beat.
Altair's eyes met hers. There was a depth in them, questions forming that neither of them dared to voice out loud. Sensing the shift, Sunny decided to step in.
"Alright, lovebirds, I think you’re getting ahead of yourselves. Or do I need to start shopping for a hat for the big day?" She teased, crunching a chip with exaggerated drama.
Altair laughed it off: "Always a drama queen, Sunny."
Cassy tried to laugh, but her mind was racing. It wasn't just the act anymore. She was in uncharted waters now, struggling with her feelings.
Seeing Cassy lost in thought, Sunny playfully pulled her away and said, "Come on, daydreamer. Let’s show these guys how to have fun."
Altair stayed put, his gaze following them. Their laughter echoed back at him, a warm sound that made him question everything. “It feels too real—the connection, the chemistry—is this what falling for someone feels like?” He pondered. "Should I take a chance? If I don’t, I’ll keep cherishing these moments, but what happens when the play's over? When she no longer has a reason to stick around?"
Questions loomed—a blend of excitement and uncertainty—as he watched Cassy, his thoughts waging a battle between reason and emotion.
The stakes felt unimaginably high for Altair. Every sound, every chirp of a bird, seemed to amplify the weight of the moment.