To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

I was ten years old when I met Lucky. I knew it then, and I know it now. He’s a firefly. Luminous and wild. He was never meant to be trapped. Not here and not with me. And in a few days, I’ll finally watch him fly away.

“He’s your anchor,” Danil says quietly. “No,” I whisper, my eyes lifting to the full moon. “He doesn’t fight the tide. He controls it.”

Because he is. Ellis is home to me.

With the moon lending its soft glow through the window, Lucky falls asleep. And I learn what it is to cradle a firefly in my palms.

“You say I’m your firefly?” I nod. Yes. “Well you’re my goddamn moon, Ellis. You call, I come.”

“I love you, too. I have for years. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I won’t ever stop. I’m not capable of it. You’re it for me, El. You’re my big goddamn romance. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.”