Fire and Ice - An Impossible Love Chapter 4, a winx club fanfic

The ancient section of Cloud Tower's library lay shrouded in perpetual twilight, illuminated only by floating orbs of witch-light that cast moving shadows between towering shelves. Bloom's footsteps echoed softly against stone floors worn smooth by centuries of witches seeking forbidden knowledge. The air hung thick with the musty scent of aging grimoires and the metallic tang of residual dark magic.

"Stop hovering in the doorway like a lost pixie," Icy's sharp voice cut through the silence. The witch stood at a massive oak table, surrounded by stacks of ancient texts. "If we're going to do this, let's do it properly."

Three days had passed since their confrontation, three days of uneasy negotiations through Darcy's careful mediation. Now here they were, reluctant allies in their search for answers. For solutions.

Bloom stepped fully into the room, frost trailing in her wake. The baby's magic had grown stronger with each passing day, responding to its other mother's proximity. "These books... they're all about magical bonds?"

"Among other things." Icy's pale fingers traced the spine of a particularly ominous-looking volume bound in what appeared to be shadow-leather. "If there's any precedent for our... situation, we'll find it here."

"And if there isn't?"

"Then we look for other solutions." The edge in Icy's voice left little doubt about what kind of solutions she meant.

Bloom's hands moved protectively to her stomach. The gesture wasn't lost on Icy, whose expression flickered with something almost like guilt before hardening again.

"We're not doing anything drastic," Bloom said firmly. "Not until we understand exactly what's happening."

"What's happening is that your dragon fire and my ice magic created something that shouldn't exist." Icy pulled a heavy tome from the stack, its pages crackling with dark energy. "And the longer we wait to address it, the more complicated this becomes."

As if in response to her words, a surge of hybrid magic rippled through the room. Frost patterns bloomed across the table's surface, while tiny flames danced harmlessly along their edges. Both women watched the display with a mixture of fascination and unease.

"It's getting stronger," Icy observed, her analytical mind clearly cataloging every detail. "The manifestations are more controlled now. More purposeful."

"The baby knows you're here." Bloom hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the words slipped out anyway. "It... responds to you."

Icy's hands stilled on the book's cover. For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across her features – wonder, perhaps, or fear. Then her usual mask of cold indifference slammed back into place.

"Let's focus on the research," she said briskly, opening the ancient text. "Darcy found references to magical fusion in some of these volumes. Cases where different types of power combined in unexpected ways."

"But nothing quite like this?"

"Nothing exactly like this, no." Icy's lips curved in a bitter smile. "Congratulations, we've managed to create something completely unprecedented in magical history."

They settled into an uneasy rhythm, poring over texts filled with increasingly dark magic. Hours slipped by as they searched for anything remotely similar to their situation. Bloom found herself drawn to histories of magical pregnancies, while Icy focused on spells gone wrong and their solutions.

"Look at this," Bloom said suddenly, pushing a weathered manuscript across the table. "There was a case in the Melodian realm where a music fairy accidentally merged her power with a storm witch's lightning magic. Their combined power created a new form of sound magic."

"But it didn't create life," Icy countered, though she studied the page with interest. "It was just a magical fusion, not..." She gestured vaguely at Bloom's midsection.

"Still, it proves different magical sources can combine in stable ways. Maybe—"

A shadow fell across their workspace as Darcy materialized from between the shelves. "Someone's coming," she announced without preamble. "Griffin's doing her evening rounds."

Icy cursed softly, gathering the most incriminating books with practiced efficiency. "Take these back to the restricted section," she ordered her sister. "We can't let anyone know we've been researching magical fusion."

"What about the rest?" Bloom asked, eyeing the scattered texts.

"Leave them. These are standard magical theory books – nothing suspicious about researching those." Icy's organizational skills were impressive, if slightly terrifying. "But you need to go. Now."

"We're not done here," Bloom protested, even as she moved toward the secret exit Darcy had shown her earlier.

"Obviously not." Frost crackled around Icy's fingers as her frustration leaked into her magic. "Same time tomorrow. And bring any relevant books you can find in Alfea's library. There might be something in the fairy archives we're missing."

Bloom nodded, slipping behind a shelf just as footsteps approached the library's main entrance. Through a gap in the ancient tomes, she caught one last glimpse of Icy. The witch had arranged herself at the table with a perfectly casual air, as if she'd been studying alone all evening.

"Working late, Miss Icy?" Headmistress Griffin's voice drifted through the stacks.

"Just some independent research, Headmistress. You know how I feel about theoretical magic."

The lies came so smoothly to Icy's lips. Bloom wondered how many other secrets the ice witch kept hidden behind that carefully maintained facade. As she slipped away through the hidden passage, she felt the baby's magic pulse with a strange mixture of contentment and longing – already so attuned to both of its mothers, even if one of them wasn't ready to acknowledge that title.

Days blended together in a haze of ancient texts and forbidden knowledge. Each evening found Bloom and Icy hunched over Cloud Tower's darkest tomes, their mutual desperation driving them deeper into magical territory neither would have dared explore alone.

"This might be something." Icy's voice broke through the library's oppressive silence. "A ritual from the Shadow Realm. It's designed to separate merged magical signatures."

Bloom looked up from her own research – a treatise on magical heredity that had yielded nothing useful. "What's the catch?"

"Besides the fact that it requires blood magic?" Icy's pale fingers traced the intricate diagrams on the page. "It's never been used on a pregnancy. The targets were always fully formed beings, not..." She gestured vaguely toward Bloom.

"Not an unborn child carrying both our powers." Bloom moved closer, peering over Icy's shoulder at the ancient text. The proximity sent a shiver through both of them as their magic responded to each other.

"Stop that," Icy snapped, though there was less bite in her voice than usual.

"I'm not doing anything. The baby—"

"Is making everything more complicated than it needs to be." Icy pushed back from the table, pacing between the towering shelves. Frost followed her footsteps, beautiful and deadly. "This should be simple. Find the right spell, undo the damage, go back to being enemies."

"Is that what you really want?"

The question hung in the air between them. For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across Icy's features.

"What I want doesn't matter," she finally said. "What matters is fixing this before—"

A massive tome on the highest shelf chose that moment to slip from its perch, plummeting toward Icy's head. Before either of them could react, a shield of swirling fire and ice materialized above her, catching the book harmlessly.

"Before that?" Bloom asked softly, watching their combined magic dance in the air. "Before we admit that this baby is already protecting both of us?"

"It's just instinct." Icy snatched the book from the air, but her hands trembled slightly. "Basic magical self-preservation."

"Then why does it feel like more?"

Instead of answering, Icy flipped open the fallen book. Her sharp intake of breath drew Bloom to her side once again.

"What is it?"

"A separation ritual. More powerful than the other one, but..." Icy's voice trailed off as she studied the requirements. "The cost is higher."

Bloom read over her shoulder, horror growing with each line. "No. Absolutely not."

"We should at least consider—"

"It requires sacrificing another magical being!" Frost exploded across the pages as Bloom's anger merged with her borrowed ice powers. "We are not murdering someone to undo this."

"Then what do you suggest?" Icy slammed the book shut, rounding on her. "Should we just accept that we're bound together forever? That we created something that could reshape the entire magical dimension? That every dark force in existence will be hunting this child once they discover what it is?"

The words echoed off ancient stones, heavy with truth neither of them wanted to face. In the silence that followed, both women became aware of a new sensation – a gentle pulse of magic that seemed to resonate between them.

"What..." Icy pressed a hand to her chest, eyes widening. "What is that?"

"The baby." Bloom's hands moved to her stomach, feeling the familiar swirl of fire and ice. "It's reaching for you. It knows you're upset."

"That's impossible. I'm not..." But Icy's protest died as the sensation grew stronger. Their magic intertwined in the air between them, creating patterns of impossible beauty – flames that didn't burn, frost that radiated warmth.

"Maybe we're asking the wrong questions," Bloom said quietly. "Instead of looking for ways to undo this, maybe we should be trying to understand it."

"Understanding won't make this any less dangerous." But Icy's voice had lost its edge, replaced by something almost like wonder as she watched their combined magic dance.

"No," Bloom agreed. "But it might help us protect it better."

A sound in the corridor outside made them both freeze. Their magic dissipated instantly as Darcy materialized from the shadows.

"Griffin's on her way," she reported. "And she's not alone. I caught fragments of a conversation about unusual magical signatures being detected in the library."

"They're tracking the hybrid magic," Icy realized, quickly gathering their research materials. "We need a new meeting place. Somewhere they won't think to look for magical anomalies."

"I might know a place," Bloom offered hesitantly. "There's an abandoned greenhouse on the outskirts of Magix. Nature magic would mask any unusual signatures."

Icy studied her for a moment, calculation warring with something else in her pale eyes. "Tomorrow at sunset," she finally said. "Bring whatever you can find in Alfea's archives about magical fusion in living beings."

As Bloom slipped away through their usual escape route, she caught a glimpse of Icy watching her go. The witch's hand had risen unconsciously to her chest, where moments ago she had felt their child's magic reaching for her. Even from a distance, Bloom could sense her confusion, her fear, and underneath it all, a tiny spark of something that felt dangerously like hope.

The abandoned greenhouse loomed against the twilight sky, its glass panes reflecting the last rays of sunset in shattered rainbow patterns. Nature had reclaimed the structure over years of neglect – vines wound through broken windows, and wildflowers pushed through cracks in the stone foundation. It was beautiful in its decay, a perfect fusion of civilization and wilderness.

Bloom arrived first, her wings dissolving as she landed among the overgrown roses. The baby's magic hummed contentedly, responding to the raw natural energy that permeated the place. She had spent the day combing through Alfea's restricted section, searching for anything that might help them understand their situation better.

"At least someone's comfortable here." Icy's voice cut through the evening stillness. The witch materialized from a swirl of snowflakes, her presence immediately causing frost to spread across nearby leaves. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Maybe." Bloom pulled a slim volume from her bag. "It's a treatise on magical inheritance. According to this, when two powerful magical bloodlines combine, the result isn't always a simple mixing of powers. Sometimes it creates something entirely new."

"That doesn't help us separate them."

"No, but it might explain why none of the separation spells we've found would work. The baby's magic isn't just fire plus ice – it's something unique. Something that's never existed before."

Icy's expression darkened. "Then we try something stronger." She produced an ancient scroll from her cloak, the parchment radiating dark energy. "This ritual was used during the Shadow Wars to break magical bonds thought to be unbreakable."

"Icy..." Bloom started to protest, but the witch cut her off.

"We're running out of time. The longer this continues, the stronger the connection grows. Soon we won't be able to hide it at all."

As if to prove her point, their magic surged between them, creating a spectacular display of fire and ice that lit up the greenhouse interior. The wildflowers around them bloomed impossibly, responding to the fusion of opposing forces.

"Fine." Bloom squared her shoulders. "But at the first sign this might harm the baby—"

"We stop," Icy finished, surprising them both with her quick agreement. She avoided Bloom's questioning look, focusing instead on unrolling the scroll. "The ritual requires both participants to channel their magic into a focal point while reciting the incantation. If it works, it should separate our magical signatures completely."

"And if it doesn't?"

Icy's silence was answer enough.

They positioned themselves on opposite sides of a cleared space, the scroll floating between them. Dark energy crackled through the air as Icy began the incantation, ancient words of power that made the very ground tremble. Bloom joined in, their voices twining together as they had once seen their magic do.

Power built around them, a maelstrom of magical energy that shook the greenhouse to its foundation. Bloom felt the dragon flame surge within her, answering the ritual's call. But something else rose with it – the baby's magic, pulsing with alarm.

"Something's wrong," she gasped, but the ritual's power held them in place. "Icy, we need to—"

The scream that tore from her throat wasn't entirely human. The baby's magic exploded outward, a perfect fusion of fire and ice that shattered every pane of glass in the greenhouse. Bloom felt herself falling, but before she could hit the ground, familiar cold arms caught her.

"I've got you," Icy's voice came from very far away. "Just breathe. Focus on breathing."

Bloom clutched at Icy's robes, their magic swirling chaotically around them. The baby's distress radiated through both of them, making it impossible to tell where one woman's pain ended and the other's began.

"Make it stop," Bloom pleaded, not sure if she meant the pain or the connection or both.

"I'm trying," Icy's voice cracked with something that might have been fear. "But it won't... I can't..."

Their magic surged again, but this time it was different. Instead of fighting each other, fire and ice merged seamlessly, creating a cocoon of power around them. The baby's magic guided the fusion, showing them how their powers could work in harmony rather than opposition.

Gradually, the pain subsided. Bloom became aware that she was still holding onto Icy, and that the witch hadn't pushed her away. They sat among the shattered glass and blooming flowers, both breathing heavily as their magic settled into a new equilibrium.

"What just happened?" Bloom finally managed.

"The ritual failed." Icy's voice held none of its usual bite. "No, more than failed. The baby... it showed us..."

"That we're stronger together than apart."

Neither of them had sensed Darcy and Stormy's arrival. The two witches stood in the greenhouse entrance, taking in the scene before them with very different expressions. Stormy looked shocked, while Darcy's face held something closer to understanding.

"How long have you been there?" Icy demanded, finally seeming to realize she was still holding Bloom. She helped the fairy sit up but didn't completely let go.

"Long enough to see everything," Darcy replied calmly. "Long enough to understand why you've been researching magical fusion spells. This isn't just about undoing an accident anymore, is it?"

"It's not what you think," Icy started, but Stormy cut her off.

"Really? Because it looks like you and the fairy just performed an ancient dark ritual that backfired spectacularly, and instead of letting her fall, you caught her. You, Icy. The ice witch who once said you'd rather die than touch a fairy."

"The baby protected both of us," Bloom explained, one hand moving to her stomach where their combined magic still swirled. "It wouldn't let us hurt each other, even accidentally."

"Because it needs both of you," Darcy concluded. Her dark eyes moved between them thoughtfully. "This is beyond anything in the ancient texts, isn't it? The child isn't just carrying both your powers – it's actively combining them into something new. Something stronger."

Icy's hand found Bloom's without either of them seeming to notice. "Which makes it even more dangerous if anyone finds out. The wrong people would kill for this kind of power."

"Then it's a good thing she has three powerful witches to help protect it," Darcy said simply.

Stormy's jaw dropped. "Wait, we're helping now? Since when are we on team fairy?"

"Since our sister's child turned out to be the most magically powerful being ever created." Darcy's practical nature shone through as always. "Think about it, Stormy. This baby will have the dragon flame AND pure ice magic, plus whatever new power comes from their combination. Do you really want that kind of power falling into someone else's hands?"

The logic was undeniable, even to Stormy. "Fine," she conceded. "But this is weird. Like, really weird. And if anyone asks, I'm only helping because I want to be the cool aunt."

A laugh bubbled up from Bloom's throat, slightly hysterical but genuine. After a moment, she felt Icy's chest shake with silent laughter as well. They were still sitting too close, still connected by more than just their joined hands, but somehow it didn't feel wrong anymore.

"So what now?" Stormy asked, kicking at a piece of broken glass. "Because this place is trashed, and someone's going to notice all this hybrid magic residue sooner or later."

"Now we stop trying to undo this," Bloom said firmly, meeting Icy's gaze. "And start figuring out how to control it instead."

Icy was quiet for a long moment, her pale eyes unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Together," she agreed softly, the word carrying more weight than either of them was ready to examine too closely.

As if in response, their magic swirled once more, gentler this time. Where fire met ice, new flowers bloomed among the broken glass – impossibly beautiful blooms that radiated both warmth and frost. A physical manifestation of what their magic could create when they worked in harmony instead of opposition.

"Well," Darcy observed dryly, "this should make family gatherings interesting."

The greenhouse filled with unlikely laughter – fairy and witches together, united by a miracle none of them had asked for but all would now fight to protect. As night fell around them, Bloom felt the baby's magic settle into a contented rhythm, finally at peace now that both its mothers had stopped fighting their connection.

The path ahead was still uncertain, but at least now they weren't walking it alone. Even if their companions were the last people in the magical dimension they would have chosen for themselves.

# Chapter 5: Thawing Hearts

Dawn's first light crept through Cloud Tower's windows, casting long shadows across the training hall's obsidian floor. A burst of flame illuminated the space, immediately followed by crackling ice that trapped the fire in a crystalline prison. The combined magic hung suspended in the air, a testament to power that shouldn't exist.

"You're still fighting it," Icy observed, circling Bloom with critical eyes. "The energies want to merge, but you're trying to keep them separate."

"Maybe because they should be separate." Bloom lowered her hands, watching frost patterns dance across her fingertips. After two months of pregnancy, the foreign magic felt almost natural – which terrified her more than any battle ever had. "Fire and ice aren't meant to coexist."

"And yet here we are." Icy gestured to the frozen flame still suspended between them. "Creating impossible things."

Their eyes met across the training space, neither willing to acknowledge that they weren't just talking about magic anymore. These early morning sessions had started as necessity – learning to control the baby's hybrid powers before they revealed themselves at the wrong moment. But somewhere along the way, they'd become something else entirely.

"Again," Icy commanded, her voice softer than it used to be. "This time, don't think about what should or shouldn't be. Just feel the flow of power."

Bloom closed her eyes, reaching for the familiar warmth of dragon fire. It rose within her easily, but now there was something else too – a cool current that wound through the flames like silk ribbons. The baby's magic, growing stronger every day.

She felt Icy move behind her, close enough that their magical auras brushed together. "That's it," the witch murmured, her breath ghosting across Bloom's ear. "Now let them dance."

Cold hands settled on Bloom's shoulders, steadying her as their combined power swirled outward. Where fire met ice, beautiful impossibilities bloomed – crystals that burned with inner flame, frost patterns that radiated warmth. The baby's magic sang between them, completing a circuit neither had realized was broken.

"Look," Icy whispered, and Bloom opened her eyes to see their creation. The training hall had transformed into a wonderland of fire and frost, every surface adorned with their merged magic. It should have been chaotic, these opposing forces existing so close together. Instead, it felt right in a way neither woman was ready to admit.

A sharp knock shattered their concentration. They sprang apart as Darcy materialized from the shadows, her knowing smirk suggesting she'd been watching longer than they'd realized.

"Hate to interrupt your... training session," she drawled, "but Griffin's called an emergency faculty meeting. The halls will be crawling with witches soon."

Frost crackled around Icy's fingers. "We were working on control techniques."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Darcy's raised eyebrow spoke volumes. "Well, whatever you want to name it, you might want to be more careful. There are rumors starting about strange magical signatures around the school. Mixed energy patterns that shouldn't exist."

The warning sobered them all. Bloom's hand moved instinctively to her stomach, feeling the swirl of hybrid magic that grew harder to hide with each passing day. She caught Icy watching the gesture, the witch's own fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to reach out.

"I should go," Bloom said softly. "Sky's already asking questions about where I disappear to every morning."

Something dark flashed across Icy's features at the mention of Sky's name. Ice spread beneath her feet, beautiful and defensive. "Wouldn't want to keep your specialist waiting."

"Icy..."

"Just remember what we practiced," the witch cut her off, voice sharp as winter wind. "Control is everything now."

But as Bloom slipped away through the pre-dawn shadows, she couldn't help wondering which of them Icy was really talking about maintaining control. The magic, or these impossible feelings growing between them?

The forest path back to Alfea stretched before her, dappled with early morning light. Bloom walked slowly, lost in thoughts of cold hands and warm magic, of barriers melting like spring ice. The baby's power hummed contentedly within her, as if pleased by the lingering proximity to its other mother.

A twig snapped behind her.

Bloom spun, magic gathering instinctively in her palms. But instead of an attacker, she found herself face to face with a junior witch from Cloud Tower – one whose name she couldn't quite remember.

"Well, well." The young witch's lips curved in a predatory smile. "What's a little fairy doing so far from home? And so early in the morning?"

Before Bloom could respond, a blast of dark magic shot toward her. She threw up a shield, but in her surprise, she forgot to control the balance. Fire and ice exploded outward together, creating a defensive barrier far more powerful – and distinctive – than simple fairy magic.

The witch's eyes widened. "What in the realms..."

"I wouldn't finish that thought if I were you."

Icy's voice cut through the clearing like an arctic wind. She materialized from a swirl of snowflakes, positioning herself between Bloom and the younger witch with casual menace.

"Senior Icy!" The girl's attack dissipated instantly. "I was just..."

"Just leaving." Frost crept toward the witch's feet. "And forgetting everything you saw here. Understood?"

The threat in Icy's voice could have frozen hellfire. The junior witch nodded frantically before turning and fleeing into the forest.

"I had it under control," Bloom said, though gratitude colored her tone.

"Clearly." Icy turned to face her, snowflakes dancing in her silver-white hair. "That shield was about as subtle as a dragon in a crystal shop."

"I panicked! She surprised me, and the baby's magic just..."

"Reacted." Icy stepped closer, her expression softening fractionally. "I felt it. All the way back in the training hall, I felt our magic spike."

The admission hung between them, heavy with implications neither was ready to face. Their connection grew stronger every day, drawing them together in ways that went far beyond their shared responsibility for the life growing inside Bloom.

"Why did you follow me?" Bloom asked quietly.

"I didn't. I just..." Icy's hand rose, hesitated, then settled gently against Bloom's stomach. "I knew you were in danger. We both did."

The touch sent sparks of magic dancing between them. Frost patterns bloomed across Bloom's shirt, while tiny flames flickered harmlessly around Icy's fingers. The baby's power hummed contentedly, recognizing both its mothers.

"This is wrong," Icy whispered, but she didn't pull away. "Everything about this is wrong."

"Then why does it feel so right?"

Their eyes met, fire and ice, fairy and witch, enemies turned something neither of them had words for yet. Icy's other hand came up to cup Bloom's cheek, her touch impossibly gentle for someone who commanded winter itself.

"Because we're both losing our minds," she murmured, even as she leaned closer. "Because this baby's magic is affecting us in ways we don't understand. Because..."

The kiss, when it came, was soft as falling snow and warm as summer sunrise. Their magic surged together, creating aurora-like patterns in the air around them. Frost covered the nearby trees in delicate patterns, while flowers bloomed impossibly through the ice. It should have been wrong, should have felt like betrayal – fairy and witch, light and dark. Instead, it felt like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

They broke apart slowly, both breathing hard. Bloom pressed her forehead against Icy's, feeling the usual temperature difference between them stabilize into something comfortable.

"Tell me this is just magical interference," Icy said softly. "Tell me it's just the baby's power making us feel this way."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I want to." But Icy's arms had wound around her waist, holding her close. "It would be easier if this was just some magical side effect. Something we could blame on the spell gone wrong."

"When have our lives ever been easy?" Bloom's laugh held a hint of hysteria. "I'm carrying a baby that shouldn't be possible, falling for someone who's supposed to be my enemy, and hiding it all from everyone I care about. Easy stopped being an option months ago."

"Falling for?" Icy pulled back slightly, searching Bloom's face. "Is that what this is?"

A voice cut through their moment like a blade: "Bloom? Are you out here?"

They sprang apart as Sky's call echoed through the trees. The evidence of their kiss remained in the magically altered landscape – frost-covered flowers and burning ice crystals creating a scene of impossible beauty.

"Go," Bloom urged, pushing Icy toward the deeper shadows. "He can't find you here."

Icy hesitated, vulnerability flickering across her usually guarded features. "Bloom..."

"Tonight," Bloom promised. "The astronomy tower. We'll figure this out."

The witch nodded once, sharp and decisive. But before she disappeared into a swirl of snowflakes, she pressed one more swift kiss to Bloom's lips. "Don't be late."

Sky emerged from the trees moments later, his specialist uniform bright in the morning sun. "There you are! I woke up early and thought we could have breakfast together, but your roommates said you'd gone for a walk. Is everything okay?"

"Fine," Bloom managed, grateful that her breathlessness could be attributed to pregnancy. "Just needed some fresh air. The baby makes it hard to sleep sometimes."

His hand replaced where Icy's had been moments ago, warm but somehow wrong against the swirling magic beneath. "Our little miracle," he said softly, his love and pride unmistakable. "I still can't believe we're going to be parents."

The guilt hit Bloom like a physical blow. She stepped back, using the excuse of checking the time to break contact. "I should get ready for class. But breakfast sounds great. Give me twenty minutes?"

"Of course." Sky pressed a kiss to her forehead – the same spot where frost from Icy's touch was still melting. "Whatever you need."

As they walked back to Alfea together, Sky chattering happily about nursery plans and baby names, Bloom felt the weight of her secrets pressing down like a winter storm. But underneath the guilt and fear, something else bloomed – something that felt like hope, like possibility, like a future she'd never dared imagine.

The baby's magic hummed contentedly within her, fire and ice in perfect harmony. For the first time, Bloom wondered if their child's impossible existence wasn't a mistake at all, but rather the universe's way of bringing together two hearts that never would have thawed toward each other any other way.

She touched her lips, still feeling the ghost of that kiss, and smiled. Tonight couldn't come soon enough.