“Me and you, El,” I whisper against his lips. “It’ll always be me and you.” His mouth brushing mine is an agreement. We stay at the top of that windmill for hours, my lips bruised from Ellis’s kisses. When the sun sets, we watch, the fairy lights keeping us company like little twinkling fireflies. The stars keep us company, too. And as night rolls over to morning, my fiancé’s hand is in mine.
