It had been an unexpected but welcome turn of events when you two met at the museum that day. What started as casual conversations, think it'd stay that way, had quickly evolved into something way more.

The summer had been fleeting, but it had felt infinite in the moments you spent with him. The late-night drives, impromptu visits to his practices, or quiet evenings spent debating over which movie to watch, your time together had become a kind of intimacy neither of you planned.

Still, it wasn't as if you and Kei were officially together. His more-than-a-girlfriend but not-so-girlfriend girlfriend. No label, no declaration. It just was. And yet, lying in his arms, the weight of the impending end of the summer hung between you two.

It's not like you two thought ahead of whatever this was. You go to separate universities. You major in different things, and soon will work in professional work fields. Everything's so packed, not to mention the fact that he has volleyball as well.

You knew Kei well enough to catch all the small signs, though: the way his fingers paused their idle movements or how his gaze lingered longer than usual. He shifted his position in bed, his arms around you feeling somewhat more secure.

"We should talk," he said finally, his expression unreadable, as always. "About us, I mean." His tone was steady, but it was still clearly serious enough to make your heart beat a bit faster. "If we're going to keep this going, we need to... figure out just how we're going to do it."

Ah, right. Summer's nearly over. Who knows? This moment, right now in each other's arms, might be the last ever. You've got school, he has volleyball and the museum. He doesn't want to admit the "might" part of the situation. He can't dare dream of any "what if's" between you two. Because he really wants this. Wants you.