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It is with a sense of trepidation that wears Luz down, when pointless conversations turn deep, with something she has understood far less in her life, becomes the main topic. She sits in the passenger’s seat, listening and refusing to speak-her brows furrowing at how each of her friends had decidedly taken turns to define something undefinable.

            “You alright?” A soft and familiar voice snaps her out of the trance and she looks at the driver, whose eyes were still focused in front of them, one hand on the gear, ready to shift any time. Luz only shrugs it off and instead, gazes at her with a contemplative look. Amity made no indicative moves to show that she was aware of what Luz was doing. She looks over her shoulder when she realizes that the noisy conversation slowly became less and less, and sees that two of their friends have gone into dreamless sleep.

            “Peachy.” She finally answers, shortly. Amity ran a hand through brown locks, seemingly bothered that she did not tie it up so that the wind doesn’t mess with it. Luz finds it lovely, how Amity’s hair has grown and her auburn roots become more dominant each day. A knowing look finds its way onto Amity’s face, her porcelain skin glowing because of the dim light that pierces the glass of the impeccably clean car.

            Luz swallows the lies in her throat, nervous jitters suddenly spiking up within her. She averts her eyes and sighs heavily, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, propping an arm up on her crossed leg. Amity did not look surprised when Luz speaks.

“Love is undefinable.” She offers, throwing the ball in Amity’s court.

            One of her fingers that held the steering wheel twitched, to show Luz that Amity heard what she said.

“Is that what it is?” Amity answers after a beat. She raises a brow, lips curling into a thoughtful smile. “Can you really call something undefinable just because it has a lot of definitions?”

“What else is there?” Luz shifts in her seat, wondering if Amity’s statement had any hidden meaning, then what it literally is about. “If it has a lot of definitions, that means that people don’t agree with each other. So why is it that people are keen to place a definition on it?”

“On what?” They reach a red light and Amity finally looks at her.

            Luz finds an uncomfortable feeling welling up within her and she shivers at the challenge in Amity’s low voice, interest seeping in every feature of her face. From the way her brows arch, to how her nose wrinkles in thought. But they both know what Luz was referring to.

“Love.” There is some sort of distaste she feels when that word rolls off her tongue. She makes a face, which elicits a laugh from her companion. Familiar buildings come into sight and Luz knew that they were close to home. The atmosphere changes and both of them grew eerily silent, as Luz waits for what Amity would say.

When they pass through flickering lights that illuminate an abandoned Mcdonald branch, it is when Amity finally replies. “Love isn’t supposed to be defined, I think.” Luz resists the urge to point out that those very words would most likely be Amity’s own definition. Instead, she gives her a curious look. “How so?”

Amity pauses, eyes sliding towards her and very deliberately, it’s like she’s seeing Luz in a new light; it was an expression that Luz didn’t know the meaning of.

“Before someone called it love, people felt it. It’s a feeling. It’s something that we can never describe with the same words.”

The sudden engagement of Amity to the topic sends Luz into another spiral of thoughts. Love is a feeling? Then how did it earn its reputation of being more important than other feelings? Somehow, Amity’s contribution only makes Luz feel more puzzled. She moves the gear when they turn around a corner that heads to their street and she did not say anything else, leaving Luz to ponder until they reach the parking lot and Amity pulls over.

The two were still sleeping soundly in the backseat, with Gus leaning on Willow’s shoulder, who had her mouth open. Slowly, she started to rest her head on top of Gus’. Amity stares at them with a fondness that Luz recognizes to be mirroring on her face at times.

“Love can be beautiful beyond description. Maybe too wonderful for comprehension.” It was quietly said and quickly hangs over Luz’s head. “It varies from person to person, but that proves that it exists.”

“What does that mean?” Luz answers with equal silence, watching Amity lean back on her seat, turn her head and a wry smile forming on her rosy lips. Luz catches her breath when she sees a new light finding its way in Amity’s golden eyes and she wonders what the woman was thinking.

“You exist, Luz. You’ve felt it before, it’s just that you can never define it directly.”

For some reason, Luz understands that immediately but at the same time, knows she can’t place a finger on what exactly she understood. She only nods and blinks before she reaches out to take her seatbelt off.

This time, Amity watches her carefully and Luz realizes that the softness in her eyes had so much meaning that Luz cannot hope to possibly define each one. But she knows that it all leads to one word.

Amity was looking at her with love. A love different from when she looks at someone else. A care different from the actions she does with someone else. It dawns on Luz that this fluttering feeling, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach and the prickly, red flush that creeps on her cheeks, had a name. Has a real name.

            She placed her hand atop Amity’s, soft and deliberate, sure and confident, but gentle enough to allow Amity to pull away if she wants to. But Amity does not. She stares back into Luz’s eyes with a glint Luz supposes she should know. Amity turns her hand and her palm is quickly covered by Luz’s own. Their fingers interlaces and it fills Luz with glee at how perfect it molded together.

            Luz’s lips breaks into a grin and she raises both of their hands, kissing Amity’s pale and yet warm, knuckles.

“If that’s the case, then you exist, Amity. You are that definition.”