21. Magic

His eyes ask permission before he leans in.

She forgets all the reasons she should refuse.

This is no cosmic collision, no star-spun tale. This is the warmth of a passing moonbeam. A whisper in the dark. A fall without landing. She can't recall a time when loss of control didn't make her feel small, helpless. She can recall the thrill of wind at her back, tassels in hand, soaring, tumbling with the slightest touch. A feeling like escape—or coming home.

It's over before she realizes her feet never left the ground.

Still feels like flying.


A/N: Can we all just agree that Carpet is a total bro for basically orchestrating their first kiss?