Moonlit Conversations

The night sky draped the countryside in a blanket of stars as Rose settled onto the creaky wooden porch, her phone cradled gently in her hand. A lantern hung nearby, casting soft golden light that flickered with each breeze, dancing over the worn floorboards like fireflies. The scent of jasmine drifted from her grandmother’s garden, mingling with the earthy aroma of grass and distant pine.

She swiped across the screen, tapping open a group call to Emily and Trina. The soft glow illuminated her face, casting it in warm light as the phone rang.

“Rose!” Emily’s voice burst through the speaker, bright and unmistakably bubbly. “Finally! We’ve been waiting for your call all day.”

“Hey, guys,” Rose said, her tone mellow with contentment. “Not much going on—just enjoying the peace and quiet. It’s beautiful out here.”

Trina joined in with a soft laugh. “Ugh, I’m jealous. Your grandparents’ place always sounds like a dream. I could seriously use a break from the city noise.”

Rose tucked her legs beneath her, settling deeper into the wicker chair. “It really is peaceful. Crickets chirping, stars overhead... it's like time slows down here.”

Their conversation meandered through familiar territory—updates on professors, classmates, group projects gone wrong, and campus gossip. Emily, true to form, had everyone laughing as she recounted her chaotic day, including an accidental run-in with a squirrel in the library that caused a minor panic.

“Oh my god,” Rose laughed, nearly dropping her phone, “only you would get chased by a squirrel while trying to return a book.”

“I swear it had a personal vendetta,” Emily said dramatically. “Like it sensed I was overdue on my rental.”

Trina giggled. “At least you’re not being haunted by squirrels and your crush. Speaking of which...” Her voice trailed off suggestively.

Rose perked up. “Oho—yes, spill, Trina. Who’s the mystery guy?”

Trina groaned, half-laughing. “It’s not even a thing! Just this guy in my art history class. He’s cute, tall, and he smells like cinnamon. I don’t even know his name.”

“That’s enough to start planning the wedding,” Emily teased. “I mean, cinnamon? That’s practically romantic destiny.”

“Please,” Rose added with a grin. “If you don’t shoot your shot, I just might have to step in.”

“Don’t you dare!” Trina squealed. “Besides, you probably already have mysterious country boys falling for you out there in that starlit paradise.”

Rose laughed but said nothing for a moment, gazing up at the constellations that seemed to pulse gently in the velvet sky.

Trina, sensing the pause, pounced. “Alright, your turn. What kind of guy does make your heart flutter, Rose?”

She smiled, thoughtful. “Someone who doesn’t need to say much to be heard. The quiet type. Thoughtful. Maybe a little mysterious... someone who understands how beautiful silence can be. And who sees the magic in nights like this.”

The line went quiet for a beat.

“Wow,” Emily finally said. “You just made my standards feel too low.”

“Same,” Trina muttered. “I was over here crushing on cinnamon-scented eye candy and you're describing the hero of a Jane Austen novel.”

Rose chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I’ve just had too much fresh air.”

They continued talking long into the night, the distance between them melting away with each shared story and laugh. And even after the call ended, Trina’s playful question lingered, echoing in Rose’s mind like a whisper carried on the wind.

Somewhere out there, under the same stars, maybe someone else was wondering the same thing: what kind of soul could understand the quiet beauty of a moonlit conversation?

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***