What the fuck,” A cry escaped Barry’s mouth as his hand made its way up to caress his cheek.

“You,” He heard a feminine voice; knowing all too well who is belonged to, “You fucked with my head!”

Not knowing what to say he looked at her with wide eyes, hoping she would continue.

“You made me feel all these stupid things that I wasn’t supposed to feel!”

“What – what do you mean?” Barry barely managed to speak,

“Barry I – uh,” Freya touched her temple, “I – I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I – I don’t understand…”

He looked at the girl in front of him who battled monsters and survived every day in a long, forgotten Island, but if you looked at her right now, she wouldn’t look the same. With warm tears rushing down her eyes and her face flushed, she looked the opposite of the Freya Barry once found.

She was hyper-ventilating, “I – I don’t know…” Her voice finally broke.

Freya took a deep breath but her fingers and her were numb, “Oh lord,” She whispered as she trembled to stay on her feet. Her throat seemed to close-in, “I can’t -”

Panic filled her conscious as she struggled to breath. She suddenly took on a pale look, as if she had been painted with white-wash - even her lips were barely there. It felt like her innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole; like someone is beating her insides with a hammer. Then with one step backwards, she crumpled like a puppet suddenly released of their strings. Her knees gave up and she fell down; her head about to hit the damp green bed of grass beneath her.

Barry’s eye widened as he held her before she fell to the ground, “Hey hey,” He whispered, “Open your eyes, Frey!” He gently tapper he cheeks, “The worst thing that can happen to you right now is that your body will do its job and make you pass out. Your body "knows" what to do in this situation and that is to shut down,” Barry said in a low voice, hoping Freya will keep her eyes open,

She struggled to keep her eyes open but nausea crept from her abdomen to her head.

“Freya… it’s okay, hey,” Barry took a step forward, “Look at me,” his voice was soft as he took her face in his hands, “It’s okay,”

She looked at him. His eyes drowned in hers and for a moment – just for a moment – Freya felt at home. He looked at her like he saw her, he understood her and nothing else mattered.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Barry’s voice filled her sub consciousness, “Keep your eyes open, Frey! Try to breath!”

“Barry,” She whispered, almost giving in,

Before things to could make sense, Barry pushed his lips against her – a kiss in the subtle and light rain right in middle of the forest; a kiss which brought more warmth and shelter than jackets and umbrellas ever could.

His kiss was not at all the same as those movie stars, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. For her, it felt like a promise of realness, of the primal desire that lived in her but she never had the courage to bring it out.

In his kiss, Freya felt the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.

She struggled to open her eyes only to see Barry’s face closer to her like never before, his eyes shut as he kissed her passionately. She closed her eyes too. Her hands made their way to his hair. Had Barry not been holding her back, Freya would’ve fallen down the moment he brought his face closer to hers. But Barry held her, like he always did; making sure she doesn’t fall.

Barry broke the kiss. Freya panted for breath as their eyes met. She parted her lips to say something and Barry’s eyes were so deep in hers, not a single word came out of her mouth.

She wanted to be in this moment.

Forever.

For as long as she could be.

“I – uh,” Barry straightened up and help Freya get back on her feet, “Uh, that’s um, one way of stopping a panic attack,”

Freya looked at the flushed boy in front of her. He scratched the back of his neck as looked at his shoes, avoiding eye contact with her.

Yet all she could do was look at him; look at the boy she met a few months ago; the boy who made her feel all these emotions, all these feelings.

“Frey, what’s wrong?” He asked,

“I don’t know – I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” She took a deep breath,

“Here, sit here,” Barry got down on his knees. Taking off his jacket, he spread it on the ground for her to sit, “Take a deep breath,”

Freya did.

“Look at me,”

She did.

They looked at each other for a second but it felt like eternity. It was just like the movies; the wind probably slowed down and it felt as if the whole Island woke up to look at them.

“Are you better?” He broke the ice,

Freya nodded, without breaking the eye contact,

“What’s wrong?”

As she was about to answer, she looked at the sky abruptly.

“Wait—”

“Shh.” Freya cut Barry off.

“Look,” Freya whispered, her eyes fixated on the sky as she sat on Barry’s jacket with him right in front of her.

He looked up as well. All he could see was a black sky and loads of stars. Each star shone brighter than the previous one. It looked mesmerizing, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Island. He had already looked at the sky a couple of hundred times ever since he woke up. He waited knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

“Now.” He whispered.

They looked up to see a silent spark explode into a thousand extraordinary particles of light and conquering the sky. Explosions of neon colors excite the twilight sky like a paint palette splashed all across the black sky. Gold streaks burst into the black canvas sky like a luxury bottle of Moet champagne being popped open and exploding in celebration. Shades of blue, red, green, pink, golden, and every other color took over the sky.

She turned her head around to look at him, who looked far more mesmerized than her. And under the fireworks – as they reflected on Barry’s face – she found answers to all the questions.