A Leap Of Faith

Aye Phyu."

"Yes Darling."

"Shall we run away together?"

Her expression faltered. "No… that's impossible."

Aye Phyu's reaction was immediate—her face paled, and her delicate hands trembled. Her fear was clear, and yet, I understood. A leap like this wasn't easy for her to accept. I sighed internally, pushing aside my frustration, and decided to press forward. This wasn't a moment for hesitation.

"It is possible, Aye Phyu. Why wouldn't it be? Don't you love me?"

Her head shot up, her voice trembling. "Brother, do you even need to ask?"

"I do," I replied firmly. "This is important, Aye Phyu."

"I love you very much," she admitted softly, her head dipping lower. Her voice was so tender, so sincere, that for a moment, I felt victorious.

"If you truly love me," I said, leaning closer, "then you need courage, Aye Phyu. Without it, you can't claim to love me fully. Real love isn't just about feelings—it's about bravery. True love gives you the strength to do anything."

Her shoulders quivered under my words, and I pressed on, invoking the stories of love and sacrifice I'd read before. "Even a girl too afraid to walk across an empty field at night will cross a graveyard for love. A princess would face death in a cavern just to be with her beloved. Lovers who truly care for each other defy all odds—crossing oceans, overcoming every obstacle. Nothing is impossible for love."

I looked her directly in the eye, letting the conviction in my words resonate. "So tell me, Aye Phyu, do you have the courage to run with me? Or are you saying it's impossible?"

Her silence stretched between us. She avoided my gaze, instead focusing intently on the ice cubes in her glass. I could see the turmoil within her, the war between fear and her feelings. Her small hand, clasped in mine, betrayed her rapid pulse. I felt a pang of sympathy, but my love for her burned brighter.

If only she would agree tonight—just this once—we could leave all of this behind. She would be mine, truly mine. We would never be separated again.

"Aye Phyu," I whispered, my voice softer now. "Life is fleeting. There are no guarantees. Before we graduate high school, before we get our degrees, before we find jobs—so many things could happen. What if we're forced apart? If we wait for everything to be perfect, we might lose each other. Nothing else matters if I can't be with you. The whole world means nothing without you. I'd trade it all just to have you by my side."

Her head remained bowed, her silence cutting deeper than words.

I tightened my grip on her hand, desperate to pull her out of this shell. "Aye Phyu," I pleaded, "do you not have the courage? Are you afraid to face hardship with me?"

Still no response.

I exhaled deeply, frustration bubbling up. "I see," I said, bitterness creeping into my tone. "You don't have the courage. And if you can't even do this for us, then maybe you don't really love me. True love would make you brave."

That broke her. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks in shimmering trails. She suddenly looked up, meeting my gaze with an intensity that caught me off guard. Her voice cracked as she cried out, "Don't say that, Brother! I love you! I love you more than anything. I do have courage—I'll give up anything for you. But there's only one thing I fear…"

I froze, stunned. "What is it?" I asked gently.

"I'm afraid of seeing you suffer," she whispered. "I'm scared people will look down on you, mock you, call you a failure because of me."

I let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over me. "Aye Phyu, I can bear all of that. I can endure anything—anything but losing you. Let's go now. There's no time to waste."

To my surprise, Aye Phyu rose abruptly from her seat. Her tears still glistened, but there was a spark in her eyes now—a spark of determination.

"Are you serious?" I stammered, disbelief coloring my words.

"I am," she replied, her voice steady. "What about you? Do you have the courage?"

I couldn't help but grin. "Oh, I've got more than enough. Let's go."

I stood, a renewed energy surging through me. Grabbing the two half-empty glasses of lime juice on the table, I handed one to her with a smirk.

"Before we go, let's finish this together. A toast to our new beginning."

She took the glass, her hand brushing against mine. We clinked them together with a satisfying chime before tipping the glasses back in unison.

The lime juice was refreshingly cold, but the warmth in my chest outshone it. For the first time, the night didn't seem so daunting. Together, we would face whatever came next.

Tonight, we would make our escape.