By the time winter had begun to loosen its grip on the world, Noah had stopped noticing how much of his life belonged to Elias.
It was in everything.
In the songs he listened to on the way to school because Elias had once sent them to him with a message saying that he thought Noah would like them.
In the coffee he ordered every morning without even looking at the menu because Elias had taught him to like it that way.
In the photographs filling the storage on his phone, in the books stacked beside his bed, in the ridiculous phrases that had somehow become part of their private language.
Even the stars had become difficult to look at without thinking of him.
It was strange how another person could quietly change the meaning of ordinary things.
Noah had once thought that love would be something obvious, something that would arrive with certainty and make itself impossible to ignore.
Instead, loving Elias had become a thousand small habits that Noah didn’t remember choosing.
He had simply woken up one day and realized that his days were easier to understand when Elias was somewhere inside them.
Spring came slowly.
The first warm afternoon felt almost unreal after months of cold.
Noah remembered walking out of school and stopping on the steps because the sunlight was finally strong enough to make him squint.
Elias stood beside him.
“Finally.”
Noah looked at him.
“What?”
“Warm weather.”
“It’s barely warm.”
“Compared to winter, this is summer.”
Noah laughed.
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’ve been waiting for this.”
“For what?”
Elias smiled.
“For going somewhere.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“Somewhere?”
“You forgot?”
“No.”
“The ocean.”
Noah’s smile softened.
“You’re still thinking about that?”
“I never stopped.”
They had talked about it so many times that the idea had become almost familiar, even though neither of them had actually planned anything.
Somewhere far away.
Somewhere near the ocean.
Somewhere they had never been.
It existed between them like a secret future.
A place they could always imagine reaching.
“Maybe after graduation,” Elias said.
Noah looked at him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re serious.”
“I am.”
Noah smiled.
“Then let’s do it.”
Elias held out his hand.
“Promise?”
Noah looked at it before taking it.
“Promise.”
Their fingers intertwined.
Neither of them knew how many promises they had made to each other by then.
Some were small.
Some were ridiculous.
Some were forgotten almost as soon as they were spoken.
And some would remain with Noah for the rest of his life.
That afternoon, they walked farther than usual.
They passed the streets they knew, then the places they had visited a hundred times, until even the familiar surroundings began to disappear behind them.
Neither of them cared where they were going.
Elias kicked a small stone along the pavement.
“What do you think we’ll be like in five years?”
Noah thought about it.
“Older.”
Elias laughed.
“Very insightful.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because I want to hear you imagine it.”
Noah looked at him.
“In five years?”
“Yeah.”
Noah thought for a while.
“I’ll probably be studying.”
“Probably?”
“I don’t know what I want yet.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so.”
“You will.”
Noah smiled.
“And you?”
Elias looked ahead.
“I want to travel.”
“You’ve said that.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
“I want to see places I’ve never seen.
I want to wake up somewhere and not know what the streets look like yet.”
Noah listened.
“And I want you there.”
Noah’s heart skipped.
“You’re assuming I’ll go.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because you promised.”
Noah laughed softly.
“You remember everything.”
Elias looked at him.
“Everything important.”
Noah didn’t answer.
They continued walking.
Eventually, they reached a hill overlooking the town.
It wasn’t particularly high, but from there, the buildings looked smaller and the sky seemed enormous.
They sat in the grass.
Elias leaned backward on his hands.
“This is nice.”
Noah nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Take a picture.”
Noah looked at him.
“You’re becoming obsessed with my camera.”
“Maybe.”
Noah took it out.
“Of what?”
“Us.”
Noah smiled.
He set the camera down and adjusted the timer.
Then he ran toward Elias.
They sat beside each other just as the shutter clicked.
One photograph.
Then another.
Then another.
In the last one, Elias was laughing because Noah had nearly fallen over while trying to sit down.
Noah looked at the picture.
“That’s the one.”
Elias leaned closer.
“You’re right.”
Noah saved it.
Later, when the sun began to disappear, they stayed on the hill.
The sky changed slowly above them, from blue to orange, then from orange to purple.
Noah watched it in silence.
Elias looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring again.”
“I like watching you.”
Noah smiled.
“You say things like that too casually.”
“Should I make it dramatic?”
“No.”
“Fine.”
Elias moved closer.
“I like watching you.”
Noah laughed softly.
“Better?”
“Not really.”
“Liar.”
Noah looked at him.
The wind moved gently through the grass.
There was something peaceful about the moment.
Noah rested his head against Elias’s shoulder.
Elias didn’t say anything.
He simply stayed there.
For a while, they watched the sky together.
Then Noah whispered, “I don’t want this to end.”
Elias turned his head.
“It doesn’t have to.”
“What if it does?”
“Then we’ll make another moment.”
Noah looked at him.
“You always make everything sound easy.”
“No.”
Elias’s voice became quieter.
“I just don’t want to waste the time we have worrying about the time we don’t.”
Noah didn’t know what to say.
So he held his hand.
They stayed there until the stars appeared.
The first one.
Then another.
Then another.
Noah smiled.
Elias noticed.
“Again?”
“They’re beautiful.”
“They are.”
Noah looked at him.
“Do you think people can stay connected even when they’re far away?”
Elias didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t very convincing.”
Elias smiled.
“Maybe distance only matters when you stop reaching for someone.”
Noah thought about that.
Then he looked toward the stars.
“So far away.”
Elias smiled.
“Exactly.”
The words became part of the silence.
Neither of them knew that one day Noah would say them with tears in his eyes.
One day, so far away wouldn’t be about a destination.
It wouldn’t be about the ocean.
It wouldn’t be about stars.
It would mean a distance that no road could cross.
But that evening, there was no sadness in the words.
Only possibility.
Only youth.
Only the quiet certainty that there would be another day.
They eventually walked home together.
At the corner where they usually separated, Elias stopped.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Noah smiled.
“Tomorrow.”
Elias looked at him for a second longer.
Then he walked away.
Noah watched until he disappeared.
He didn’t know why he stayed there so long.
Perhaps some part of him simply wanted to make sure Elias really was leaving.
Perhaps he already understood, somewhere deep inside himself, that people should never be taken for granted.
But he was eighteen.
Elias was nineteen.
They had their whole lives ahead of them.
At least, that’s what they believed.
Noah turned toward home.
The sky above him was dark and filled with stars.
He looked up.
And for the first time, he whispered the words to himself.
“So far away.”
Then he smiled.
Because for now, Elias wasn’t far away at all.
He was only a few streets down.
He was somewhere beneath the same sky.
He was going to wake up tomorrow.
And tomorrow, Noah would see him again.