Sang has outdone himself again with the floral arrangements, but instead of brightly colored flowers, the arrangements are all made of small trees and bushes. Branches form nests with tea lights in the middle for centerpieces, and moss outlines the beverage and dessert tables.
A table at the far end of the tent holds a large planter that’s filled with flowers. When we arrived, they were just seeds, and as the night went on, they fed off the magic of the springs in attendance. Now the flowers are in full bloom.
It’s hard not to be swept up in it all.
These are the best parts of Eastern.
The sun has set, pinks and purples giving way to midnight black. A crescent moon hangs low in the sky, and stars make their debut for the night.
I catch Paige’s eye from across the room. She looks beautiful. Her long hair is loose and easy, and she’s wearing a navy gown. I smile because I can’t help it, because when we dissipated the blizzard together, we weren’t broken. We were us again.
She nods in response.
“Please join us on the dance floor for the last song of the evening,” the vocalist says into her microphone, and my heart drops a little. I don’t want it to end.
Sang wraps his arm around my waist and whispers, “Shall we?” His breath tickles my skin, and I have to shift away before the rest of my body notices.
He’s in a blue suit and a crisp white shirt, and even though I’ve been looking at him all night, it hasn’t been enough. His hair is slightly disheveled from all the dancing, and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone.
“I’d love to,” I say, letting him lead me to the floor.
The piano starts, a slow, aching song I don’t recognize. I wrap my arms around Sang’s neck, and his hands find my waist. When I’m here with him, I don’t think about what will happen after I graduate, about the expectations that will be placed on me and my magic. I don’t think about the harm I’ve caused or worry about whether I’ll do it again. I don’t think about what will happen to us come the first day of autumn.
I stay with him in this exact moment, when it’s just us two. Music fills the tent, the dance floor crowded with witches, the sweet smell of daphne drifting in from the shrubs outside. I press my face against Sang’s, and his hand floats up and plays with my hair.
I close my eyes and sear this moment into my memory, making sure it’ll be with me for the rest of my life.
The last line of the last verse keeps repeating as the song quiets, the words please be my forever, ever, ever carrying on the wind.
“You’re my Ever, ever, ever,” Sang whispers along to the song, lips brushing my ear. “Please be my forever, ever, ever.” With one of his hands against the hollow of my back and the other in my hair, I beg myself to believe it. To believe we can have a forever, one that will survive my changes, one that will last long past summer.
I’ve always believed that being an Ever, being who I am, is incompatible with lasting romance. And maybe that’s true, but I sure as sunlight know what it means to adore someone for no other reason than that they exist, for no other reason than that the universe created such a perfect person from the dust of the stars.
And tonight, I choose to believe that this will last. That we will get past my magic and the eclipse and the first day of autumn, and we will last.
The music fades out, but Sang keeps swaying with me, holding me close, so I stay right here, dancing with him to the silence that has washed over the tent, to the breeze that rushes in.
It’s isn’t until Ms. Suntile walks to the front of the tent and starts speaking that we finally step apart. She thanks us all and formally closes out the evening, and I lace my fingers with Sang’s.
“Good night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“The best,” I say.
“Good.” The way he says it, quiet and rough, makes me pull his hand and lead him outside.
“Where are you taking me, Ms. Densmore?” he asks, following me, the voices in the tent fading into the background.
“Away.”
I hold the hem of my dress as we walk into the east garden, the emerald-green fabric draped loosely over my arm. Cobblestone paths wind between shrubs and maple trees, and a small fountain sits in the center. The constant splashing of water drowns out everything else, making it feel as if we’re miles away from the dance.
Just us.
A few dim lights illuminate the pathways, but otherwise it’s dark enough for the moon and stars and fireflies to shine brightly around us. We weave through the garden until we reach the end, where it’s bordered by tall pines and oaks.
When I turn to face Sang, there’s a smile playing on his lips, his eyes the brightest thing here.
“You’re my Ever, ever, ever,” he sings softly, his voice just barely reaching me over the breeze. He breaks into a full smile, wrapping his arms around me and laughing into my hair.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask, holding him tight.
“Because I’m happy,” he says.
“Me too.” But the admission scares me, because I know how easily this feeling can be taken away.
He leans back and looks at me, the smile on his face transforming into something heavier. For a moment, we watch each other, each daring the other to close the space between us.
I’m not sure which of us breaks first, but suddenly his mouth is on mine. I drop the hem of my dress and pull him into
