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“You almost ran your ex-boyfriend over with a car, and then left him lying in the literal dirt on the side of the road. It is such a big deal, you absolute queen.”
“The Full Potter,” he repeated. “Not finding out you’re a witch until you’re older, not growing up with it. ‘Yer a witch, Vivi,’ that sort of thing.”
It was almost like she was frozen in his memory at nineteen, but now here she was, a grown woman with an office and a career, and he suddenly, desperately, wanted to know everything about her.
What Rhys knew was that kissing her had felt like waking up. Like he’d been drifting sleepily through everything for the past nine years until he tasted her mouth again and remembered what actually being alive felt like. Better than any magic, Vivienne’s kiss.
“I am mad about you, Vivienne Jones. Again. Or maybe I should say still, because I’m gonna be real honest with you here, cariad. I don’t think it ever went away.”
Sometimes she thought what she’d really fallen in love with that summer was the version of herself she was when she was with him.
“I love you. So very, very much. And I know that I’m flippant sometimes, or make a joke rather than say the truth, but I want you to know that you’re everything to me, Vivienne. Everything.”
“You’ve had my heart from the moment I saw you on that bloody hillside, and I hate that I wasted nine years without you, but I’m not wasting a single second more. If you need to be here, then I need to be here. Simple as that.”
The Fool and The Star, just like Gwyn’s cards had shown. Leaping off cliffs and shining steadily, opposites who couldn’t live without each other.
