Congratulations for earning a spot in the LGBTQ+: Sun-Kissed Anthology! ♥

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, my love. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

Tristan Bowes felt his toes curl in his shoes as he imagined Toya Lanes saying those words to him instead of to Amelie, and it was in real life, not a school play. His knees were bent, drawn up to his chest with his feet balanced on the edge of his seat, and his heart was beating so fast and so hard he felt like it was going to escape from his chest.

He was supposed to be painting the sets and designing a backdrop for the play, but as usual, he was too distracted by the perfection that was Toya Lanes. Clutched in his arms were his sketchbook, pencils, and pens, a camera hanging off his neck by its strap. He mostly went by memory to recreate the scenes, adding experimental background imagery to be checked later by Toya and their teacher, but sometimes, he needed the camera, because his imagination couldn't always capture the beauty.

When Toya paused, reaching down to cup Amelie's face in her hands, her expression so serene, so full of love –

Tristan's breath hitched, and his toes curled harder, his cheeks on fire.

The butterflies in his tummy turned into dragons as he mouthed the next line with her.

"My love for you is divine – it knows no boundaries."

Toya bent over to brush the tip of her nose with Amelie's in an Eskimo kiss, the final scene of the play. Toya and Amelie were playing the part of Fairy Advisor and Fairy Queen respectively, and Tristan imagined a multitude of colourful butterflies bursting out from behind the frame of the girls and into the theatre, the stage exploding with the glow of a million tiny specks of golden glittery dust as a sign of the Fairy Universe's acceptance of their boundless love.

"And – cut!" Miss Desmond flew out of her seat at the front of the theatre, clapping in a loud and dramatic fashion. "Bravo, everyone! Bravo! That was such a smooth and splendid practice run! I'm sure with a few more run-throughs, we'll be ready for the Pride show in two weeks."

Toya was beaming, and her smile – God, her smile. Tristan felt like it could light up a dark, starless night sky.

Miss Desmond was still talking, but her voice sounded like it was underwater. The rest of the cast for the school play had assembled on the stage to listen to their director's final words of advice, but Tristan only had eyes for Toya.

She was wearing yellow today. Tristan thought Toya looked so lovely in that particular colour, because it contrasted so beautifully with her cool, dark brown skin. She was tall, probably just a little over six feet with her heels, and was easily one of the tallest people standing on the stage, her chubby frame and the brick red halo of her afro making her stand out.

The yellow was a free-flowing knee-length summery dress with spaghetti straps, her feet covered in brown shoes with leather straps that criss-crossed all the way up to her knees, with a wooden, wedged heel.

She was so beautiful it made Tristan ache.

He was so busy staring and daydreaming that he didn't notice when the theatre cleared out, and a throat cleared delicately in-front of him.

Tristan blinked himself back to the present, and nearly lost his soul when he saw a flash of yellow. He flailed, sending his sketchbook and pencils flying, and ended up stumbling out of his seat.

"Sorry," Toya said, but she sounded amused, "I didn't mean to startle you."

She leaned down, reaching for his sketchbook, which was currently open to a quite vivid pencil sketch of her face.

"Oh my God!" Tristan yelled, mortified, slapping her hand out of the way in his attempt to grab the book before she saw the sketch and recognised herself. He slammed it shut and slapped it against his chest, unable to meet her eyes, heart pounding in his eardrums.

Tristan normally had more self-control. After their practice runs, he knew as the screenwriter Toya would come up to him with her visions for the play, to see if they matched up with his sketches and ideas, and since she'd made a few changes to the script and scenes as of recent, his work would have to reflect the change.

"Sorry," Toya was repeating with a soft laugh, leaning down to help him pick up his spilled pens and pencils, "Are you okay, Tris? You seem distracted."

Oh God, Tristan thought, mortification intensifying, his hands gripping the sketchbook tighter. Did she notice the drawing?

"No. Nope. I'm fine. Just, you know...the date for the play is so close now, perhaps I'm freaking out a little but that's normal, right?" Oh no, he was rambling. "I mean, I think this is the first Pride play in the history of ever for Queens College, so it has to be perfect and –"

"Tris," Toya's voice was fond, "Stop talking."

He snapped his mouth shut. He was suddenly self-conscious of his oversized sweater and ill-fitting jeans, hyper aware of the way his binder constricted around his chest with each rushed breath.

"What do you think of the changes I made to that closing line?" she asked, and her brown eyes were so, so dark, reflecting the lights of the theatre like the night sky littered with a million stars, and Tristan felt like he could get lost in their depths.

He tore his gaze away, feeling his pulse pound with panic, like she could read the thoughts on his face.

He wasn't sure what was wrong with him today, he was usually able to hide his crush better.

"Um. I think it's really cheesy." Toya laughed, and he grinned, eyes darting to meet hers for a second, before darting away again. "But also kind of perfect."

"Yeah?" she said, sounding excited, "I thought it sounded a lot better than 'my love for you will last until the ends of time.' Still cheesy, but at this point I think you know cheese is what I'm going for."

Tristan laughed, feeling less nervous now. "Cheese is your specialty."

"Indeed it is. Any more thoughts on the stage décor? I adore the sketches you sent last – I know I've said it already, but I really love the theme of the flowers and butterflies. Super femme and super magical – it's exactly what I'd have imagined for the play."

Tristan ducked his head, though he was beaming with pride on the inside. "Thanks. I'm glad you liked them. And I don't know, I think that theme really fits, you know? Especially with the new lines. I was imagining we could decorate Amelie's mobility scooter with pink peonies – they have a lot to do with romance and a happy marriage, and they can also mean bashfulness, as we know Amelie's character is one hundred per cent shy, even as a Queen. I've been reading a lot on the language of flowers, so each design piece would range with flowers reflecting the mood of the scenes. We can easily make the flowers out of origami so we don't spend too much out of our budget buying real ones, same with the butterflies." He took in a deep breath after his tirade.

"That sounds wonderful," Toya beamed, "I love how passionate you are about this project. Seeing as this play comes from my heart, it means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. I mean, it's not a big deal. I'm happy to be of service."

"Still, thank you. So...are you coming for the Parade this weekend?"

"Oh," Tristan hesitated. "I dunno..."

"No pressure," she said, and Tristan could hear the grin in her voice, "I just thought since almost all of us queer theatre kids are gonna be there, that I'd formally remind you you're invited. We have a float and everything, as you know. I'm sure you'll love it."

"I'll...I'll think about it."

"Well," she rocked on her heels, placing her hands behind her back. "You have my number if you decide to come."

His phone burned in his pocket at the words, reminding him of all the times he'd nearly taken advantage of that, wanting to call her and talk to her about nothing, anything, and everything under the sun – except the play. But she'd given the number to him for the latter's purpose only, and as much as he wanted to talk about all the other mundane things with her, he couldn't disrespect that.

She was still hovering, and Tristan was sure he had to be imagining the disappointment in her voice when she said, "Okay. Well, I'll see you later?"

"Yeah."

Ask her out, his mind screamed. Ask her out!

She waited for another second or two, but Tristan remained mute, throat feeling clogged, before he watched her turn on her heel and walk away.

He clenched his eyes shut.

That was horrid. That was just awful.

With the way he was going, Tristan was sure he was going to remain single for the rest of his lonely life.

The small flag Tristan was clutching in his hands contained a white stripe, framed by pink and blue on each side

The small flag Tristan was clutching in his hands contained a white stripe, framed by pink and blue on each side. It was late, and he knew he really shouldn't be in the theatre, but he hadn't been able to think of anywhere else to go.

Outside, somewhere far away, the Pride Parade was taking place right at that moment, or it was probably over – he'd been here for a while so he really couldn't tell. He glanced at his watch, and it was nearing six in the evening, so he guessed it should have been dying down by now.

His grip around the flag tightened as he stared onto the massive stage, gaze far away.

His thoughts, as usual, strayed to Toya; her chubby frame dressed in a white knee-length summery chiffon dress with short sleeves, her afro bursting to life with several white calla lily flowers, her skin practically glowing in the soft yellow lighting from the stage. Shin-high brown boots covered her feet, and shrouded in the light, she looked like an angel.

He blinked when he realized that was actually Toya coming towards him, and he sat up, heart suddenly pounding so hard it made him feel lightheaded.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," she joked as she approached.

He wasn't really thinking when he stumbled out of his seat, forgetting his sketchbook, pencils, pens and photos that had been resting in his lap. He'd packed the items as he'd left for the parade, some part of him already knowing he wasn't going to make it. They clattered to the floor at his abrupt action, and he rushed to pick them up, feeling embarrassed.

"Happens every single time," Toya said, laughing, leaning down to help him.

"Just call me Tristan Clumsy Bowes," he said, and then nearly slapped himself at the bad joke.

But Toya was laughing, chest heaving with mirth as she handed him his fallen items, her smile more gums than teeth. She settled into the chair beside the one he'd been occupying, and he had no choice but to retake his seat beside her, dropping his art stuff on the floor to avoid another awkward incident.

"I didn't see you at the Parade," she began.

Sitting this close, Tristan suddenly noticed the three flags painted onto her face, and the little coloured squares of cardboard and glitter paper clinging to her dress and bits of her hair.

The flag on her forehead matched the physical flag he was still holding in his hands, while her left cheek held a purple stripe framed with a thicker brick of blue and pink, and her right cheek held four stripes; black, grey, white, and purple respectively.

Transgender. Bisexual. Asexual.

Tristan had known about the second, but not the first or last.

She noticed him staring, and shrugged before gesturing at her person in a dramatic fashion, "Yup. This is all of me. It's a lot, yeah?" she teased, leaning close to nudge their shoulders together.

"Well, I mean, Amelie is a Bisexual Heteroromantic Demigirl, which kind of sounds like a Superhero so I don't think anything can be too much at this point."

He'd barely finished his sentence before Toya was laughing. The way she looked at him, Tristan was too afraid to believe he could see his own feelings reflected in the depths of her eyes. It was highly likely he might just be projecting, so he looked away.

"Tristan," Toya said, and she sounded exasperated but fond, "do you want to go out with me?"

Tristan's head snapped in her direction, eyes as wide as saucers. "I – What?"

"I know this great waffle place," she continued, a tender smile on her face.

"It's six o'clock."

"Don't blaspheme, Tris. I practically eat dessert for every meal."

He was still staring, unable to believe what was happening, and Toya's smile slowly faded. "Did I – am I reading this wrong?"

"No," he said, quick to reassure, "No. I really – really like you." It felt like he'd just jumped off a cliff at the admission, his cheeks on fire.

"Good," she said, and even with her dark skin, Tristan was sure she was blushing too, "Cause I really, really like you, too. So...waffles?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Tristan said, feeling a slow smile spread across his face when he accepted that this was actually happening, and wasn't some sort of torturous prank.

"Come on, then," she stood up and held a hand out, "You can leave your art stuff here. They'll be safe until Monday."

Tristan's heart was back to trying to pump its way out of his ribcage as he reached out and joined his hand with hers, their fingers tangling together. He suppressed a tremble at the contact, and was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven.

The scents in G & D's Waffle House made Tristan's mouth water

The scents in G & D's Waffle House made Tristan's mouth water. He didn't think he'd have the saliva to drool any more than he already had, but he was proven wrong when one of the waitresses, who was wearing a rainbow apron like the rest of the staff, placed his order on the table in-front of him.

Syrup dripped from the edges of the waffle, which was also littered with fresh strawberries and sprinkled with icing sugar, a single scoop of vanilla ice-cream sitting in the middle to finish it off.

"This is going to send me into cardiac arrest, isn't it?"

Toya laughed, already digging into her own waffle, which was a beautiful mess of syrup, blueberries, and topped with strawberry ice-cream. "I eat here at least once a week and I'm still alive, so I think you're good."

Tristan grinned, and he couldn't help but watch the way Toya dove into her food, with the same amount of focus and enthusiasm she gave to almost everything she did. He couldn't help but find it cute.

He dug into his own waffle, and swallowed back an indecent sound at the flavours bursting across his tongue, his sweet tooth doing a happy dance. Yeah, this was definitely going to become a new favourite place.

The food was gone too soon, and Toya smacked her lips, making soft sounds of contentment.

"Life's good. L. G."

Tristan burst out laughing. "What?"

Toya was laughing too, but she looked embarrassed. "It's a thing my dad says after he's eaten something good, don't laugh at me. And yes, I know LG is an actual brand name, he says it on purpose."

Tristan's laughter doubled, and Toya couldn't help but join him. It was perfect, she was perfect, and what had been feeling like a disappointing day suddenly felt like the best day ever.

"Do you want to talk about why you didn't come to the Parade? We missed you."

Tristan looked away, feeling vulnerable at the question.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's not a big deal."

"No, I know. It's fine," he said, but he still couldn't meet her eyes. "I dunno. I just...I guess, I didn't feel like I belonged. Not truly."

"Really? Why?" her voice was filled with concern.

He shrugged, but the motion was jerky. "Because I'm straight."

"Okay..." she stressed, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn't, she stared at him in disbelief. "But you're trans." The statement was matter-of-fact.

"Yeah," he agreed, "I mean, but...I dunno...I guess I just see stuff online and everywhere and I felt like I didn't...I dunno...like I'm not...queer enough or something."

"Aw, Tris." She reached out to grab both his hands, holding them tight in hers. Tristan loved the way their skins complemented each other; her dark to his light brown. "Look at me, please." Tristan looked up, couldn't help the way his breath stuttered as he met her eyes. "I understand that as a community, we still have a lot to learn, but you can't let other people tell you if or how you should belong. I mean, I'm pretty sure had I been just asexual or even aromantic, I'd face the same discrimination, and it feels painfully ironic coming from a community that's supposed to be open and accepting. Hell, even the bisexual part of me is treated poorly – God forbid I want to date a guy instead of a girl," she was smiling, so Tristan managed a soft snort at that. "Being a part of the LGBT community isn't just about sexuality or lack thereof. If not, the 'T' or the 'I', as an example, wouldn't be there. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, Tris, you matter. And You. Are. Queer. Enough."

At that very second, Tristan felt himself fall in love, just a little.

At that very second, Tristan felt himself fall in love, just a little

The streets of the city came alive in the night. Seeing that it was summer, this meant that almost everybody was out partying, not to mention the Pride Parade had been earlier today, so the streets were vibrant with colour and laughter; drag queens were scattered about on the pavement, flags representing almost every letter in the LGBT+ community littered the streets, and fallen bits of coloured and glitter paper made the City Centre look like a giant party popper had exploded all over the town.

They were holding hands.

It made Tristan feel warm but nervous, and he could feel the way his vein pulsed in his wrist where Toya's thumb kept stroking.

They weren't talking, but they didn't have to, the silence feeling like a cosy blanket around them. They walked all the way from the City Centre to Blackbird Leys, the residential area where they both lived.

Tristan walked Toya to her door.

His gaze, unbidden, dropped to her lips, and the desire to kiss her grew like hot chocolate settling in his lower belly. Then his eyes caught on the asexual flag, still prominent on her right cheek, and he decided he'd ask for a hug instead.

But Toya must have noticed the way he'd stared, and her eyes were hooded as she said with a shrug, her voice husky, "You can kiss me."

He couldn't hide his surprise.

She laughed. "Asexual doesn't mean sexually or physically repulsed, Tris. I don't speak for all asexuals, of course, but I do enjoy kisses."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

She took one wide step, instantly bringing them closer, their chests almost brushing. "You look really good today, Tris."