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Radiance

By: nine

Graphics by: Crismhil S. Anselmo

Photos by: Chloie Ysabelle T. Magno


Blessed are the lovers whose love burns brighter than the sun. 


Those whose love exceeds societal expectations and unbound by the norms. 


For the love that is not necessarily conventional, freely expressing even the slightest bit of romance is difficult. For those who are attracted to the same, affection can be mistaken for friendship exclusively.


“Ang ganda mo,”


“Ha? Ah… Thank you?”


That was exactly how Aine and Amaya’s first one-on-one conversation went. An awkward encounter, a seemingly platonic jest of appreciation towards Aine’s charm. If Amaya were to describe her first encounter with Aine, she’d say that her eyes were glued on her from the very start. It was not alien to her; she always knew that she would be buried loving a woman. What was new for her were the pitter-patters Aine brought to her life; the more she pondered about Aine’s being, the more her heart begged to be set out of her ribs. 


It went on like that for a while, Amaya finding inspiration in the brilliance of Aine and Aine having no clue why Amaya’s voice tended to her battered heart with leniency. Having no awareness of her preferences, Aine was stumped when she began to look forward to Amaya’s daily “Hi, Aine!” because why should she anticipate something so mundane?


Seems like naivety came with sapphics naturally. A year was what it took for Aine and Amaya to come to terms with their feelings. 


“I like you,”


“Parehas tayong babae, Amaya.”


“Oh, tapos?”


With a rhetoric as simple as that, Aine was only able to utter a sigh in full acceptance of her identity.


“Kasi, ano…” she says, unable to formulate the right words.


Amused, Amaya reached out for the woman’s hand. “Kasi?”


“For the longest time, I was never sure of my preferences. Kung gusto ko ba ng babae o hindi, kung anong gusto ko sa tao, gano’n,” Aine paused. “And then you started greeting me daily, eventually I began to look forward sa bati mo. Akala ko ‘yung bati mo lang ‘yung inaabangan ko, ikaw na pala mismo.”


For a moment, it was quiet.


“I looked your name up when you first introduced yourself to me,” Aine mentions all of a sudden.


“Really?” Amaya asks, curious as to what Aine found.


“Was it intentional for your name to be patterned after ‘night rain’ in Japanese?”


Nodding, Amaya returns a question for her, “Were you named after the Irish goddess of summer?”


“Yeah,”


“Will you do the honors of being my light?” Amaya questions with a wide grin.


“Only if you promise to balance it out,” Aine replies, face now flushed and adorned with a sheepish smile.


The two women were engulfed with much fondness for one another, one that outlasts the waves that attempt to crash their union. Amaya made Aine’s world more definitive and secure, she was her own line of sight. Amaya often reads to Aine and describes their surroundings to her. 


“I just wish you could see how much your smile radiates the sun,” Amaya coos, running her fingers through the other woman’s hair. 


It was moments like these when Aine wished she could appreciate what Amaya had narrated to her. She was always telling her about how the river they frequented was so clear her reflection could be seen, how the flowers matched her long hair, and how Aine was the definition of beauty. For the blind girl, Amaya was her world – figuratively and literally. Her world felt more than just vague collisions of black, white, and brown. She developed a sense of appreciation for what was around her because of Amaya herself.


“Do you ever wish that I could see you the way you see me?” Aine asks, quiet.


“No,” Amaya answers, “I love you whether you can see me or not.”


“Bakit?”


“Kasi ikaw na ‘yan, eh,” Amaya shrugs. 


Meanwhile, Amaya never felt incomplete with Aine. The way her hands cup her cheeks and touch her as if she were fragile made her feel like her very existence was something Aine held deeply. She always felt immensely and unconditionally wanted.


“Listen, if being spellbound by you is a crime, crucify me,” she continues. “If being with you meant feeling the world more just to paint you a picture with my words, I would lay on every pavement so you could chase the views with me.”


Silence. 


“You’ve invaded my senses so profoundly, Aine.”


They bewitched each other, soul and all.

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