Māhū Games
We Play Differently In The Islands
“How did you find me?”
I snake a hand around her waist, letting my fingers delve into the comfort of her hip. I smile, but nod noncommittally.
“Are we still playing?”
I nuzzle into her ear, brushing aside the hair she keeps long on the top and one side, brushing my lips along the curve of her lobe, pausing to tug on each ring that pierces the shell that hides the line of crosses running along the crease behind it. “Yes.”
“It’s your turn to hide.”
“This round we should hide together.”
She turns her head to look at me and I see her eyes widen, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips she always complains are too thin. “Oh?”
I let my own grin widen. There are so many nooks and crannies in this mall, overbuilt onto the bones of the oldest real one on the island. It’s become a maze-like monstrosity where shoppers barricade themselves in stores just to escape the endless wandering. I remember when it had only two stories. There are five now, high-end up top and none of the ones I remember on the bottom. I guess in sixty-two years change is embraced or you die.
“Sure, it’ll be fun.”