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Had she been relegated to an immortality of wearing the lesbian staple outfit of chunky shoes and cargo pants?
“This is the gayest thing we’ve ever done, by the way,” she said. “Summoning me from the afterlife to have one more long talk about our feelings.”
I thanked my ADHD and my proclivity to forget everyone who wasn’t directly in front of my face.
She had a smart, bookish, and—maybe I was overreaching—slightly queer vibe, like an Oxford professor and a Chapstick lesbian had a baby.
Was she queer, or was she just magical? Although a lot of times, it felt like the same thing.
I fought the smile pulling my lips up at the way she said “us.” As if after one date, we were already a couple. As if there were an “us” after a single kiss. God, I loved women. In two more dates, I would be ready to adopt a cat with her.
“Fuck it,” she whispered and shot forward, wrapping one hand around my neck and pulling my face down to meet hers.
This witch and I had gone on one single date and I was already ready to jump her bones. Fuck. Maybe I should book the U-Haul now . .
.
It was like I’d spent my whole life staring at the moon and she’d walked in with all of her sunshine. Now I was constantly seeking out her warmth, constantly turning toward the sun.
“Filthy? That’s a little rich coming from a swamp monster, don’t you think?”
“I love you, Harlow.”
“I love you too, little witch.”
“Why are you so chill?” “I may have smoked some calming herbs before we came out here,”
“You captured my heart from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Maybe it took a few ghosts and cups of pumpkin spice to get me to realize it.” We both laughed again. “But deep down, I always knew. The moon drew me to you like the waves to the shore. A beautiful siren’s song, one I tried to pretend I didn’t hear at first.”
“Are you sure you didn’t put a love spell on me? Because I love you more than I ever thought was possible. I love you like it’s magic.”
