As Theory’s hands diligently worked to retighten the ribbon on my gown, I found myself listening to his rhythmic breaths. He seemed so calm and unfazed by our situation. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the only one feeling this inexplicable and overwhelming attraction. Sure, I couldn’t deny that he ticked all the boxes necessary to qualify as my dream guy. He was thoughtful yet mischievous, laidback yet protective. Not to mention being handsome, strong, and tall. But that’s all I knew about him.

Talking to and being with him just felt natural… Almost too natural, like I had known him my whole life. I’d never felt such an intense sense of belonging with anyone before, especially not this quickly. I was honestly surprised he’d even been putting up with my ridiculous requests. If he hadn’t felt magnetically drawn to me as I felt with him, then maybe he was just along for the ride. It seemed like I entertained him.

Logically speaking, we met about three and a half hours ago. I not only decided to leave a public safe space with a practical stranger, but I dragged him with me to a secluded area, insisted on drinking alcohol, and then begged him to help me take off my clothes. On top of all that, he’s even been a perfect gentleman. Gods, I must have come off like a total nutcase.

In a moment of sobering clarity, I muttered into my hands, “Am I a red flag?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Theory, having finished fiddling with the ribbon on the back of my dress, rested his chin on my left shoulder and wrapped his arms around my middle.

“I think I might be crazy,” I sighed, relaxing into his embrace. Leaning my head back onto his broad shoulder, I stared up at the smattering of stars that painted the sky.

“Why do you think that? You’ve got a few screws loose, but I wouldn’t describe you as a red flag or as crazy.” Theory stated.

“I was thinking about everything that I’ve done in the past few hours… I’m not normally this… Unhinged? Swooning, losing control of my magic, running off to drink in a secluded place with a man I just met, and making you undress me… Even what we’re doing now, cuddling beneath the night sky… It’s not necessarily normal.” I allowed my thoughts to spill from my lips, hoping he would understand.

“Going by your logic, you could call me crazy, too.” He began to shift backwards on the lounge chair, pulling me so that my back was pressed against him as we continued to gaze up into the night sky.

“What do you mean?” I couldn’t remember him doing anything that compared to my foolishness.

“Instead of ditching the ball as I’d planned, I sparked a conversation with a woman who clearly wanted to be alone. I teased her until she almost fainted and had to carry her outside. Then, I got jealous and possessive because of someone who turned out to be her dad. Plus, I dragged her and her parents into an uncomfortable situation, even though I knew my father was going to be an asshole because I blatantly ignored the woman that he tried to match me with for today’s ball. That enough for you?” Theory peered down at me after saying his piece, clearly waiting for a response.

“Well… When you put it like that, I guess we’re in the same boat…” I turned my face to meet his eyes. If the strange looks from my parents and muscle mommy Maxine, plus our odd behaviors, were all considered-

“Honestly, everything we’ve done tonight would make more sense if we were about ten years younger,” Theory absentmindedly twirled a lock of my auburn hair around his index finger.

“True, we seem like a pair of rebellious teenagers.” I grinned.

“I think a night like this was just what I needed…” Theory trailed off, staring out at the ocean for a moment before continuing, “I know that I’m an adult now, I’ve been an adult for years. I mean, I’m already 27. I always thought that becoming an adult meant that I could live freely… But lately, I feel like I’m being tied down by my father’s expectations, my responsibilities to the tribe, all the titles, and the fancy high society bullshit. So, trust me when I say that you’ve been a breath of fresh air, the greenest flag around.”

“That’s why you didn’t want us to share our titles at first! It seems like we’ve got a lot in common.” I examined Theory’s profile and noted how the light that filtered through the blue glass of the balcony doors played across the planes of his face. I could stare at him all day. As if he could read my mind, Theory’s eyes slid to mine.

“Let me guess, what we have in common is hating having to conform to the standards of supernatural high society?” His lips began to curve upward as he caught me staring.

“That’s also true, but not exactly what I was thinking of. We both want freedom, but it seems like fate has other plans.” Blushing, I turned my attention back to the landscape beyond the balcony.

“Right, you mentioned wanting to avoid fate when we were in the garden… Can you tell me why?” Once he asked his question, Theory shifted slightly behind me to grab his drink from the table.

“… The idea of a predetermined path makes me feel like I have no control over my life. Nothing frightens me more than the thought of not having the ability to choose who I become, the life I lead, and the future I wish to create. I’m scared of realizing that I’m just a puppet blinded by the illusion of choice while being guided by a string.” Feeling my mood dip, I reached for my drink as well.

“Hm… Don’t witches usually say that their fate is guided by the… Uh, which god was it again?” Theory pondered.

I took a long sip as I stared at the moon and sighed. I had never told anyone the real reason behind my struggle against Fate, but for some reason, I felt like I could tell him everything without judgment. And so, I began to info dump:

“The Moon Goddess. And typically, witches find comfort in that. The reason I don’t is… Well… My parents first met at an SPC festival during my mother's debut. At the time, they belonged to different covens. My mother's coven was in Colorado, and she had just claimed the title of her coven's Maiden, while my father had been in his position as the High Priest of the Fleur-De-Lis coven for nearly 10 years. They found themselves drawn to one another during the week-long festival, although my mother had been in an abusive relationship at the time. Once the festival ended, they were torn apart by the duties and responsibilities awaiting them in their respective covens. Unbeknownst to them, they had met and parted from their fated mate. Over the next nine years, my mother quietly endured an abusive relationship with a pure-blood witch who was treated like royalty within her coven. Afraid that her coven would not believe her while being manipulated into thinking she deserved that fate, Mom hid her suffering in shame. Her only reprieve was the seven days each year that she spent on SPC island with her dear friend Azlanii. During the ninth year, Azlanii could no longer wait idly by as Mona cried in his arms and finally opened up about the abuse she had suffered at her lover's hands. Azlan vowed never to let her experience such a fate again, and they found solace in each other's arms. That night, I was conceived. My father returned with my mother to her coven to free her from her abuser and found that a new Maiden had been chosen. Taking that as a sign of the Moon Goddess's blessing, Azlanii helped Mona relocate to the Fleur-De-Lis coven, where they married and had me. Mother warned me of men who might try to take advantage of me all my life, retelling the story of her hopeless youth. But all the while, she tried to instill my belief in the plan that the Moon Goddess has in store for us all. Honestly, her stories unsettled me about the idea of Fate and predetermined paths. Why did my mother have to suffer abuse for years before her fate allowed her to live happily? I couldn't understand why such a fate had to befall someone so kind and compassionate. As my mother preached that fate had been her salvation, I decided that I would not allow Fate to play its cruel tricks on me. If it wanted to use me in its grand designs, I would fight it tooth and nail.”

“It’s impossible to know whether our idea of fate is the right one, which is why I don’t really give things like that much thought. Fate could be a puppeteer or a guide rail blocking off a cliff; we don’t know. What I do know is that your fear of fate will only limit your options here and now. Who knows, princess, fate might have some good things in store for you.” Theory tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger and flashed me with a lopsided grin.

“We are not keeping that nickname,” I grumbled, changing the subject.

“Why not? I think it’s cute.” Theory shot back.

“Princess is just so… Bleh. And I already have a nickname, it’s Juni.” I wasn’t too bothered by him calling me 'princess,' but if he were to say it in front of others, as he did earlier, I didn’t want a nickname that would make other people cringe too hard.

“That’s cute too, but I want it to be special, something only I call you.” He insisted.

“Fine… Just not princess or kitten.” I caved.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Theory winked at me and clinked our glasses.

We continued to drink just like that, with me leaning against him and one of his arms around my waist. We talked about the constellations we could see, places we’d been, and anything else that popped into our heads. During one of the comfortable silences we shared between topics, I began to yawn and felt my eyelids grow heavy. I rested my cheek against Theory’s chest. I savored the heat of his body wherever it pressed against mine. The temperature outside had dropped since we first found the balcony, evidence that we had been out there for hours. While Theory’s body heat was sufficiently warming my back and waist, my legs and feet started to feel the chill, even though they were tucked beneath the skirt of my dress.

“Hey, Theory?” I sleepily whispered, breathing in the calming scent of a rainstorm that emanated from him. I wanted to stay like that and drift off to sleep, but I knew we should make our way inside.

“Yeah?” Theory swept back and tucked a few strands of my hair, which had fallen across my face, back behind my ear.

“I think we should head inside. It’s getting late, and it’s cold out now.” I tried to blink away my fatigue, only to yawn once again.

“You’ve got to get up first, little witch.” Theory smirked at my struggle to stay awake.

“Alright, alright.” I groggily sat up, gathering our cups, trash, my corset, and shoes. I arranged them on the table before standing and entirely leaving the bubble of warmth that Theory radiated. Only moments after standing, did I realize my mistake. We had been sitting and drinking for hours, and I had not gotten up or hardly moved at all during that time. A wave of belated booze-induced dizziness crashed over me. I swayed once before I steadied myself with my practiced technique: simultaneously slapping my cheeks and then taking deep breaths while blinking hard.

“You good?” Theory seemed to be torn between amusement, concern, and curiosity. He’d stood up, and his arms were hovering on each side of me, as if in preparation to catch me.

“I usually move around when I drink, so standing afterward and feeling more drunk caught me off guard. I just did what I normally do as an emergency way to sober up for a bit; it probably won’t last long. Quick question: Is there a bathroom? Because I gotta pee, real bad.” I quickly crossed my legs and squeezed them together tightly.