To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

They flicker yellow and orange in the waning evening light, bodies flashing on and off as if communicating with one another. Maybe they are. Maybe they don’t like words, either.

“How do you catch a firefly?” I ask my mom.

He talks a lot, but maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t talk much.

I can drag Lucky all over Nebraska or even further, show him the wonders in his own backyard. But whatever this feeling is he’s chasing, it’s bigger than me, bigger than this place, bigger than anything I know. What I have to offer won’t ever be enough for my free-spirited friend. The realization hurts more than it reasonably should.

Taking a step forward, I tip Lucky’s chin. His eyes catch mine and his lips pop open, and when I lean down to press my mouth to his, his fingertips dig into my arm. Not pushing, though, holding. I’ve never kissed before, either, but Lucky deserves a first with someone who loves him. At least I can give him that.

I guess maybe some people just aren’t meant to stay.

I might regret it later, but… It’s only broken glass. It can be repaired. Reformed. Unlike certain things.

He never was mine to keep. No matter how much I wish it.

Oooo, the feels in this one so far. Still OBSESSED with the cover.

My world spins just a little, and for a moment, I imagine I’m one of those stars Lucky captured with his camera.

Only you. There’s only ever been you.

“If you ever decide to love someone,” he says slowly, “they’ll be very lucky.” He already is.

“But we’re not done,” he says vehemently, stepping into my space. “We’ll never be done. Me and you, we don’t have an ending.”

“Not everyone is going to understand you, Ellis. But it’s not your job to make them.” Lucky has always heard me. From the very first time we met, he’s heard me. He knows me, unlike any other.

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.

And with the last of my waking thoughts, I think about going home.

I think it was at thirteen that I first felt my heart beat for you. And break, just a little. Because I knew, like that tornado, you’d leave destruction in your path, and I’d be your willing victim. I’d do it again. I love you, my brilliant firefly.

For a little while, I let myself feel nothing but good. I even almost convince myself it’s enough. That it doesn’t all feel a bit…empty in the end.

“And high above, the moon sits round, and we, in its light. Waxing, waning, never gone. A gift to see the night.”

“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.”

I make a sound of acknowledgement, but my mind is stuck on the image of Lucky spread out naked on silky smooth sheets. My heart picks up speed, my body heats, and there. There it is, that intangible, magnetic force pulling me toward someone I can’t even physically see.

“I worry,” my mom says, “about him, sometimes.” My pulse skitters. “Why’s that?” “He’s such a good boy. Man,” she corrects. “But I hate to see him put his own life on hold. At least he has a date to the corn festival this weekend.” It takes a second for her words to sink in, but once they do, I can barely breathe. “What?” I ask, my voice a hoarse whisper.

I nearly sob with the thought, heart aching, and I slap a hand over my mouth before I can bark an ill-timed laugh. What a time to realize how very much not over my childhood crush I am. Fuck.

But I can’t fly back to New York and sit around this weekend while Ellis…while he goes on a date with some nice girl he works with who doesn’t know him like I do. What if she hurts him? What if…what if she doesn’t?

He’s a good ways away, but he’s right there for the first time in months, and suddenly, I forget how to move oxygen through my lungs.

I forget, sometimes, when I can only hear his voice, exactly how big Ellis is. He is a mountain of a man but the gentlest soul I’ve ever met. And he’s…

And I’m shaking with my want for him. With the need to be closer. Somehow, inexplicably closer. Could I tie myself to him so that he’d never again be able to fly off?

My mom is waiting when I step into the house, a knowing smile on her face. “Surprise visit,” she says. “Wonder what spurred that decision on.”

There are strings connecting us, so many of them. I don’t think we could ever be unraveled.

This book.

They both thank me as they dish up their plates, and, not hungry myself, I’m content to sip my beer and watch Lucky as he closes his eyes with his first bite of food. They flash my way when he opens them, and that warmth in my chest flows down to my stomach. Dani clears his throat.

“I always have it in my head,” Lucky says, “that this place is nothing but dirt and corn. In all of my memories, I couldn’t wait to get out.” I nod because I know that. “And then…” he goes on. “Then I come back here, and it feels like…” He lets loose a breath, eyes drifting shut. “It feels good. And I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how one place”—he flicks his eyes to me—“can feel like the starting point. Like my beginning. Because I didn’t grow up here. I hated coming here. But I got attached, and I miss it. I never wanted to, but I do. I miss it, and I miss you, and I don’t…”

“You love him,” Danil accuses in the morning.

“What…the fuck, El?” I snap, a little harsher than I mean to. “What is this?”

“When you’re…gone, you… You share your life. With me. Your adventures and… And your joy.” I set my gaze on the corn as I go on. “It means the world to me, Luck. To be a part of that. I… Please don’t stop just…just because I was…” Scared, I can’t say. I can’t. I let out a small breath before continuing. “I don’t ever want to lose…the place I have in your world.”

“Have you ever wanted someone so much,” I say slowly, “that it feels like your atoms are vibrating when you’re away from them? Like you’re half of a whole, and your body knows it. And until you’re in their arms again, every single piece of you is straining toward them because…because they’re your home. They’re part of you. Your beginning and your never-ending. How? How do I move on from that?”

“Wait, what? You just had the one date?” “No date,” he answers. My mouth opens. “Didn’t go,” he adds. “Thought you…knew that.” Suddenly, I can barely breathe. He didn’t—what? He never went to the festival with Gabby? But I thought…

What do I say when he does? What do I tell him? That he’s the only one I’ve ever wanted? The only one I’ve ever thought of in my life, in my arms, in my bed? How could I?

“Do you think,” he goes on, foot bumping mine as his hand lands on my abdomen, “that I would fly halfway around the world and drive into town during a tornado watch just to kiss you if it meant nothing?”

“You want me,” he whispers, hand twisting in my shirt as his other cradles my face. “Yes,” I croak. “Only. Me.” A nod. His exhale is near tortured. “Then kiss me, Ellis.” I’m scared. So goddamn scared.

If pressed to come up with a single word to describe the onslaught that hits me the moment Ellis’s lips crash into mine, I would pick landslide.

I feel like an idiot that it took me this long to see it. But I’m not about to waste any more time away from the one person who has always felt like my port. The person I return to, time and time again. The one I come home to. Because he is. Ellis is home to me.

When Ellis starts moving against me, shifting and rutting, my gasp is more than a little surprised.

I should have known kissing Ellis would rearrange my world.

“That’s right. Just like that. It’s okay to let go, baby. Let go for me.”

He tucks his face against my neck, holding on to me tightly. For a moment, he shivers. An aftershock. But then he’s calm. My mountain of a man, breathing me in, his lips pressed lightly to my skin.

His tongue swipes at my lips, a tease, and I realize what’s happening. Ellis is seducing me. Savoring me.

Lucky looks up at me with an expression I’m not sure I’ve ever seen on his face. Genuine fear. He blinks several times, his mouth opening but no sound coming out. “Gone,” I assure him, brushing his dirt-ridden hair back from his face.

“Wish you were safe,” I tell him. “I am,” he says. “I’m always safe with you.”

“What do you see?” I ask quietly. I’m not even sure if he’s going to answer me, but he’s been surprisingly open since we kissed.

He’s gorgeous, every inch of him. I could stare for hours, days, a lifetime, and never get bored.

Lucky wasn’t mine to covet, mine to have. And yet here he is. Somehow, mine, by his own choosing. Mine to hold and treasure and cherish. Mine to love freely.