There was something odd about the sky that made Elena stop in her tracks. It was sunset as usual in the middle of the farm where she lived—red and blue painting the vast expanse, the same as always. Puffy clouds dotted the horizon while others rolled along like loaves of bread. Everything was ordinary. Except for the aurora. In the tropics.

That was something no one had ever seen. Yet there it was, fluttering like ribbons in the sky, its vibrant colors lighting up an otherwise mundane dusk.

Elena’s brows furrowed as she stared at the phenomenon. She was no scientist, but she was fairly certain this wasn’t supposed to happen. “This... can’t be real,” she murmured, brushing her fingers over the pendant she always wore. It was warm against her skin, warmer than usual. Her fingers lingered on its surface, feeling the etched patterns she’d traced countless times before.

The warmth seemed to pulse. She brushed the pendant once more, twice more, thrice more, and the aurora above rippled, its colors swirling into a mesmerizing slurry.

“Oh, wow,” she whispered, a grin spreading across her face. Twenty-four years of dull, predictable farm life suddenly sparked with curiosity and excitement. She couldn’t help but play with it. It was as if the sky itself wanted to entertain her.

But then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the aurora vanished, sucked away as if by some unseen vacuum. The twilight felt emptier for its absence. Before she could process what had happened, a voice whispered her name.

“Elena.”

She froze. The voice was soft, like a breeze rustling through the rice fields, delicate yet clear. She straightened her posture, cleared her throat, and cracked her knuckles. “Who's there?” she called, trying to sound braver than she felt.

There was no response, only the warmth of her pendant swaying gently against her chest. Oddly, it seemed to pull toward her heart. She might have noticed that detail if she weren’t busy glancing around, her eyes darting from the field to the sky and back again.

And then, like fireflies in the dark, specks of golden light appeared ahead of her, hovering just beyond the edge of the field. She stared at them, mesmerized, until a compulsion stronger than caution took hold. Brushing aside stalks of rice, she stepped toward the lights. They shimmered and danced, leading her onward.

Beyond the fireflies, as she braved her way through the stalks without much care (okay, maybe a little), she came to an abrupt halt. Standing before her was a man so glorious her jaw nearly dropped.

Golden locks flowed past his shoulders, glinting in the dim light. His eyes—were they indigo? Violet? She couldn’t tell—seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. His body was sculpted to perfection, the kind that could’ve inspired a thousand statues, and his lips were as delicate and pink as an orchid.

Also, he was gloriously naked.

Elena stared, her brain short-circuiting. Did she just drool a little? Maybe. She barely remembered to breathe.

“Elena,” the man said again, his voice as soft and warm as the pendant. “I’ve been longing to see you.”

“Huh?” was all she managed. Eloquence had officially abandoned her.

“I’ve been trapped in this plane for many years,” he continued, stepping closer. His gaze lingered on her pendant. “Your pendant holds the secret I’ve long sought after.”

“...” And there went her brain again, completing another circuit.

The man—Kael, as he introduced himself with a dazzling smile—took her hand in his. His touch sent an electric jolt up her arm. “Dear Lord,” she thought, “I promise to go to church every Sunday for a month if you give me the strength to overcome this tribulation... er, temptation?”

Kael’s smile only grew gentler, as though he could hear her thoughts. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the pendant.

“Oh. Uh, sure.” Her fingers fumbled with the clasp before she managed to free the necklace. She handed it to him, watching as he held it with reverence.

What followed was nothing short of magical. Kael spoke words in a language she couldn’t understand, his voice weaving through the air like music. The fireflies multiplied, swirling around him in a golden storm. The pendant glowed, brighter and brighter, until it was almost blinding. Elena shielded her eyes, sneaking peeks through her fingers as Kael’s presence grew more radiant.

And then it was over. The glow dimmed, the fireflies scattered, and Kael stood before her, his eyes shimmering with gratitude. “This is goodbye, dearest Elena,” he said softly.

“Wait, what?” She blinked.

Kael took her hand again, his touch lingering as he brought it to his lips. The kiss was featherlight, warm, and far too brief for her liking. “I can finally leave this plane, though it pains my heart to leave you as well.”

“So... you kissed my hand?” The words escaped her before she could think better of it.

Kael chuckled, a rich, melodic sound. “I have.”

“Won’t you kiss my lips as well? You know, like... a goodbye kiss?”

His eyes widened briefly before softening with amusement. “A goodbye kiss...” he mused. “You are truly unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Elena.”

And before she could backtrack, Kael leaned in. His lips brushed against hers in a kiss so gentle, so achingly sweet, it felt like the aurora had poured its colors straight into her chest. Her knees might’ve buckled if not for his steadying hand.

When he pulled back, his smile was bittersweet. “Thank you, Elena,” he murmured.

The fireflies gathered around him once more, their light growing brighter and brighter until he was no longer visible. And then, just like the aurora, he was gone.

Elena stood there, dazed, her hand pressed against her lips. The pendant—now inexplicably back around her neck—buzzed softly against her skin.

“Well,” she muttered to herself, a goofy smile spreading across her face, “there goes the most beautiful man I’ll ever see in my life.”