As he sent this, he actually told her that he would be there. The afternoon sun hung low over the rolling hills outside Pennsylvania , USA, casting golden threads through the leaves of the enigmatic spots they had chosen as their altar. That is to say that Karl arrived first, spreading a simple wool blanket across the grass for it was his plan, nothing ornate, yet it felt like the unfolding of a secret map only they could read as if they were a unique treasure. On the other hand, he had brought bread still warm from the bakery, fresh cheese wrapped in banana leaves that any love would desire with sheer devotion, a bottle of aguardiente disguised as innocent fruit juice, and wild strawberries he had picked at dawn, their red like fresh wounds against the green unique flavour
That said, Larissa appeared moments later, barefoot, her dress fluttering like a surrendered flag in the breeze of a super wonderful wise goddess. This meant that she carried only herself and the letter she had already sent him, now folded into her palm as if it were a living heart she feared would escape. When their eyes met, time did not stop: it stretched thin, fragile, ready to tear at the slightest wrong word.
Karl: (voice low, almost reverent, as he gestured to the blanket) Sit, Lari. The earth has waited long enough for us to claim this small piece of it.
She lowered herself beside him, knees brushing his, and for a moment neither spoke. The wind carried distant birdsong and the faint murmur of the river below, as if nature itself held its breath as if she a maiden in endless pleasures for her first love
Larissa: (fingers tracing the edge of the blanket, eyes fixed on the horizon) I wrote you everything... and nothing. Words poured out like blood from a vein I didn't know was open. And yet here we are, and I still feel the gap. You read it? Can you feel my love? I really love you with sheer insanity and yet… I love you beautifully.
Karl: (nodding slowly, pulling a strawberry between them like an offering) Every line. It burned. Not like fire, but like the slow heat of stars dying far away. That is that say that you said I am the greatest thing in your life. You said you cannot live without me. You called yourself a squeal of pain as if she a star, yearning for all the universe. (He paused, voice cracking just enough to betray the armor he wore.) Do you know what that did to me? It made me question if I deserve such violence wrapped in adoration or perhaps as I would rather say: I need you in very different ways.
She laughed then. A small, broken sound that tasted of salt.
Larissa: Deserve? Devotion? Karl, love isn't about deserving. It's about the absurdity of choosing one soul amid billions and saying: You. Only you. I love you in your best ways and your worst. I love the way you stare at existence like it's a puzzle with missing pieces, and yet you refuse to stop searching. I love how you pretend not to feel the weight, but I see it in your hands when they tremble. (She reached out, placed her palm over his.) I love you stupidly, desperately, eternally. Even if it tastes like death sometimes.
He turned his hand, lacing fingers with hers. The touch was electric, not gentle, more like two storms colliding and deciding, against all reason, to merge instead of destroy.
Karl: (voice quieter now, almost a whisper against the wind) I read your letter and thought: this woman sees through the canvas I paint my life on. She sees the cracks where nothing and everything meet. And she still chooses to stand there. (He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed the knuckles as if sealing a vow.) I have spent years understanding everything and nothing. Logos and absurdity dancing in my head like drunk philosophers. But you... you are the error that makes the whole framework tremble. The one proposition that refuses to fit. And I don't want it to fit. I want the break. I want you.
Larissa leaned closer, forehead against his, breaths mingling like shared secrets.
Larissa: Then let us break together. Not apart. Let this picnic be the beginning of our small eternity. No pedestals, no games, no mismatched expectations. Just us as two fools under a tree, trading pain for something brighter. I promise to be the person who reminds you that life is worth the absurdity. And you... promise me you'll never stop seeing me as more than a tool, more than a shadow. See me as the light that hurts your eyes because it's too real.
Karl: (smiling now, rare and raw) I promise. And more. I promise to love you in the eternal darkness you've witnessed. To relive every memory we make here, under this ceiba, and chase the future like it's the only adventure left. Long distance or close, pain or laughter. Definitely, I choose you. Always you.
They ate slowly as the strawberries busted between lips, bread torn and shared, black cat wine burning sweet down throats despite them being pretty young along with water. Between bites, they spoke of nothing and everything: the new world Yang dreamed of, the tragedy Omega feared, the riddle of what is fleeting yet eternal (they both answered love without hesitation). Laughter came, then silence, then savage kisses. tentative at first, then fierce, as if sealing the letter she had written in flesh instead of ink like the old poets
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in blood and gold, Karl pulled her against him, blanket cocooning them both.
Karl: (murmuring into her hair) This is our first date. And already it feels like the last first anything. You've ruined me for anyone else, Lari.
Larissa: (smiling against his chest) Good. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I won't let destiny or death take that away.
They stayed until stars began to prick the darkening canvas above, two souls tangled on wool and grass, rewriting the framework of reality one heartbeat at a time.
In that picnic, under the ceiba tree, love did not confess quietly. It roared, poetic and dramatic, absurd and immortal. exactly as they were.