The S-Bahn ride to Prenzlauer Berg flew by in a blur of conversation. Jake, always a storyteller, filled her in on life in Berlin, his eyes lighting up as he described his favorite spots: the hidden bars, quiet parks, and bustling markets. Amelia listened, her hand entwined with his, loving the way he spoke like every word was just for her.
“See that?” He pointed to the Fernsehturm at Alexanderplatz. “It’s my cooking companion. Not that I actually cook.”
Amelia grinned. “Six months, and still nothing beyond toast? Tragic.”
“Toast is an art form, thank you very much,” he said with a laugh.
The easy banter soothed their hearts. When they finally reached his building, a modest place tucked between a bookshop and a café, he led her up the narrow stairs with a boyish excitement.
“I can’t wait for you to see it,” he said, swinging open the door to a cozy apartment flooded with warm sunlight. A shelf in the corner was filled with books they’d promised each other they’d read, reminders of late-night calls about dreams and ambitions.
“Ta-da! Welcome to my humble lair.” He set her suitcase down, watching her expectantly.
Amelia looked around, smiling. “It’s perfect.” She stepped closer, noticing his nervous smile.
“And it smells like you,” she added, teasingly.
He laughed. “Good or bad thing?”
“Good,” she replied, slipping her arms around his waist. “Definitely good.”
He kissed her forehead, his hands resting on her back. “I kept worrying something would go wrong, that you’d change your mind.”
She looked up, her gaze steady. “Nothing could keep me from being here, Jake.”
He tilted her chin, their eyes meeting before he leaned in to kiss her. The months apart faded away.
They spent the afternoon exploring Berlin. Strolling hand in hand along the East Side Gallery, they paused to admire the murals. Amelia was drawn to a painting of two figures locked in an embrace, hands grasping as if afraid to let go.
Jake noticed her expression. “What’s on your mind?”
Amelia smiled, a hint of wistfulness. “It reminds me of us. Holding on, even when everything tells us to let go.”
He squeezed her hand, serious. “I know this hasn’t been easy. Some days I’d look at my phone, wishing I could be with you, and nothing else felt right.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I felt the same way. I kept trying to focus on school, but I missed you more than I thought possible.”
They found a bench by the river, sharing a pretzel from a nearby vendor. Jake, determined, attempted to order in German, making Amelia laugh.
“Hopeless,” she teased, wiping mustard from his mouth.
He grinned, undeterred. “You love me anyway.”
She kissed him, tasting salt and mustard. “Always.”
