The Ferry Crossing

But Ellis did want. They wanted Leo’s calm presence, their quiet confidence. Wanted to know what it felt like to be seen. To be chosen. “I… I think I’d like to try,” they said softly. “With you. If… if you want.”

Leo’s smile was slow and warm, crinkling the corners of their eyes. “I’d like that too.” They stood, holding out a hand. “Come on. There’s a spot I want to show you.”

They wandered the festival grounds, fingers brushing, shoulders bumping, a comfortable ease settling between them. Leo pointed out hidden gems—a tucked-away stall selling hand-bound journals, a tiny stage where a folk duo played, their harmonies sweet and close. Ellis felt themselves relaxing, the constant hum of anxiety fading to a low thrum.

As the afternoon sun slanted long and golden, Leo led them away from the crowds, down a winding path to a secluded cove. The sand was soft and white, the water clear and calm. They kicked off their shoes, toes sinking into the cool grit.

“It’s beautiful,” Ellis breathed, looking out at the horizon.

“Good place to think,” Leo said, sitting and patting the sand beside them. Ellis sank down, their shoulder brushing Leo’s. The air was warm, sweet with salt and wildflowers.

They talked for hours. About books and music and the places they’d been. About fears and hopes and the quiet dreams they hardly dared voice. Leo listened, really listened, their gaze intent, their questions thoughtful. Ellis found themselves opening up, sharing parts of themselves they’d kept hidden for years.

The sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of pink and orange. The air cooled, raising goosebumps on Ellis’s arms. Leo shrugged out of their flannel shirt, draping it over Ellis’s shoulders. The fabric was soft, smelling of cedar and something uniquely Leo.

“Thank you,” Ellis whispered, pulling the shirt tighter.

Leo smiled, their eyes warm. “You’re welcome.” They shifted closer, their thigh pressing against Ellis’s. “Today’s been… really nice. More than nice.”

Ellis’s heart hammered. “For me too.” They wet their lips, gathering courage. “I… I know I said I wanted to try. But… I don’t know where to start.”

Leo’s hand found theirs, fingers lacing tight. “We don’t have to rush. We can take it slow. One step at a time.” They leaned in, breath ghosting over Ellis’s cheek. “Is it okay… if I kiss you?”

Ellis nodded, the world narrowing to the scant inches between them. Leo’s lips were soft, barely a brush, giving Ellis time to pull away. But they didn’t want to. They leaned in, the kiss deepening, slow and sweet and tentative.

It was nothing like Ellis had imagined. No fireworks, no sweeping passion. Just a careful, tender pressure, a sharing of breath and trust. Leo’s hand cupped their cheek, thumb stroking gentle along their jaw. Ellis felt something unfurl in their chest, warm and bright and new.

They broke apart slowly, foreheads resting together, breath mingling. Ellis’s pulse thrummed in their ears, a flush rising in their cheeks.

“Okay?” Leo murmured, their voice low and rough.

Ellis nodded, a smile tugging at their lips. “Very okay.”

Leo’s answering grin was blinding. They pulled Ellis close, tucking them against their side. They sat like that for long minutes, watching the sun sink below the horizon, the first stars pricking the twilight sky. Ellis felt safe. Seen. Wanted.

As the last light faded, Leo spoke, their voice soft. “My set’s not until late tomorrow. We could… we could spend the day together. If you’d like.”

Ellis’s heart leapt. “I’d like that. A lot.”

Leo’s arm tightened around them. “Then it’s a date.” They pressed a kiss to Ellis’s temple, breath warm against their skin. “But for now… let’s get you back. You’ve had a big day.”

They walked back to the festival hand-in-hand, the path lit by fairy lights strung between the trees. Ellis’s feet felt light, their body humming with a low, warm energy. For the first time in a long time, the future felt bright with possibility.

As they reached the edge of the festival grounds, Leo squeezed their hand. “Sleep well, Ellis.”

“You too,” Ellis managed, their voice thick with emotion.

Leo started to turn away, then paused. “Ellis? For the record?” Their smile was soft, intimate. “That kiss? It was perfect.”

Ellis’s breath hitched, warmth flooding their chest. “For me too.”

Leo’s grin widened. “Tomorrow morning. My tent. I make terrible camp-stove coffee, but I’ve got some truly excellent pastries stashed away.”

Ellis laughed, the sound bright in the gathering dark. “It’s a date.”

They parted ways at the path, Ellis watching until Leo’s figure was swallowed by the shadows. The walk back to their own tent was short, the night air cool against their skin. They crawled into their sleeping bag, Leo’s flannel shirt still wrapped around their shoulders, the scent of cedar and salt wrapping them tight.

For a long moment, they lay awake, replaying the day. The conversation. The kiss. The quiet, careful intimacy of it all. Sleep came slow, but when it did, Ellis drifted off with a smile on their lips and the echo of Leo’s words in their mind.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, sunlight filtering through the thin walls of Ellis’s tent. They stretched, joints stiff from a night on hard ground, but their body felt light, their mind clear. They dressed quickly, pulling on clean clothes, finger-combing their hair. Anticipation hummed beneath their skin, a low, warm thrum.

The walk to Leo’s campsite was short, the festival grounds quiet in the early light. Leo was already awake, fussing with a camp stove, their back to Ellis. They turned at the sound of footsteps, a smile spreading across their face.

“Morning,” they said, voice warm and rough with sleep.

“Morning,” Ellis echoed, suddenly shy.

Leo gestured to a camp chair. “Have a seat. Coffee’s almost ready.” They poured two mugs, the brew dark and strong. “Careful. It’s hot.”

Ellis wrapped their hands around the chipped enamel, warmth seeping into their palms. The coffee was, as promised, terrible—bitter and slightly burnt—but Ellis sipped it anyway, the familiarity of it grounding.

“Pastries?” Leo asked, holding out a paper bag.

Ellis selected a flaky, sugar-dusted confection. “Thanks.”

They ate in companionable silence, the festival slowly waking around them. Leo’s knee brushed Ellis’s, the touch easy and casual. Ellis’s pulse quickened, memories of last night flooding back. The kiss. The quiet intimacy. The feeling of being seen.

“You sleep okay?” Leo asked, brushing crumbs from their lap.

Ellis nodded. “Better than I thought I would.”

“Good.” Leo’s gaze lingered, warm and assessing. “You look… rested. Happy.”

Ellis’s cheeks warmed. “I am.”

Leo’s smile widened. “Glad to hear it.” They drained their mug, setting it aside. “I was thinking… we could explore a bit today. There’s a trail that leads to the old lighthouse. The views are supposed to be incredible.”

“I’d love that,” Ellis said, the words coming easy and sure.

They cleaned up the campsite, Leo stowing the stove and mugs in a battered backpack. The walk to the trailhead was quiet, the air cool and sweet with the scent of pine. The path wound through the woods, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Leo led the way, their steps sure and steady.

“You’ve been here before?” Ellis asked, curiosity piqued.

Leo nodded. “A few times. It’s one of my favorite spots on the island.”

They fell back into easy conversation, the rhythm of their steps matching the ebb and flow of their words. Ellis felt themselves relaxing, the last of their nerves fading. Being with Leo felt simple. Right.

The trail ended at a rocky outcropping, the lighthouse rising white and tall against the blue sky. The view was breathtaking—the island spread below, green and vibrant, the sea stretching endless to the horizon.

“Wow,” Ellis breathed, leaning against the sun-warmed stone.

“Told you,” Leo said, a hint of smugness in their tone.

They sat on the rocks, legs dangling over the edge. The wind tugged at their hair, cool and fresh with the tang of salt. For a long moment, they simply sat, shoulders touching, the silence comfortable between them.

“Thank you,” Ellis said softly, breaking the quiet. “For bringing me here. For… everything.”

Leo turned, their knee bumping Ellis’s. “You’re welcome.” Their gaze was warm, steady. “I meant what I said yesterday. About taking things slow. About… whatever feels right.”

Ellis’s heart hammered. “I know. I… I want that too.” They wet their lips, gathering courage. “I know I’m new at this. At… relationships. At being with someone. But with you… it feels right. Easy.”

Leo’s hand found theirs, fingers lacing tight. “It does, doesn’t it?” They leaned in, breath ghosting over Ellis’s cheek. “Can I kiss you again?”

Ellis nodded, the world narrowing to the scant inches between them. This kiss was surer than the last, deeper, Leo’s lips moving slow and deliberate against theirs. Ellis felt their body lean in, chasing the contact, the warmth.