[These are two characters from a book series idea I’ve had, although I might not ever write the actual books]

Crumb found herself, once again, waiting beside the lamppost.

The clouds that shrouded the sky shone a turbulent gray, threatening to rain at any moment. She tried to pay them no mind; what she was waiting for mattered more than the weather.

Finally, she appeared. The most beautiful witch in all of Slyvestia— and also the youngest. She held an umbrella over her head, even though the sky was still dry, and wore the same grin she always did when they saw each other.

“Sorry I’m late.” She slid onto the bench by Crumb’s side. “How long were you waiting for me?”

“Not that long.” Crumb lied. She couldn’t even remember how long she’d been sitting on that bench— maybe since morning. “Busy day?”

“Oh, you don’t even know!” She laughed; her laugh was loud, authentic, unafraid. Crumb wished that she could be like that. “Marigold— she’s the witch of 4 Spades— had me training from right after sunrise! She can be kinda mean.” She scrunched up her nose, “Or maybe just brutally honest. Although half the time I think she just likes hearing herself talk. Like, really, I need my arm _exactly four inches_ from my other arm when casting a shrinking spell? I bet she doesn’t even know how Diamond magic works! She was only teaching me because Ren was sick.”

Crumb tried her best to listen closely, despite the fact that she had no idea what Sophie was talking about. _Shrinking spells? Diamond magic? _It felt like she was speaking mouse-tongue. But any time Sophie talked made her feel warm, like soft yellow flowers were sprouting and crawling through her veins— it was a good feeling, though strange. Her chest felt hot, and her cheeks felt prickly. She wished the two of them could sit on that bench forever. It wouldn’t matter what they talked about.

“Oh, but enough about me!” Sophie shook her head, bursting back to a grin. “What’s going on with you? Anything crazy happen?”

“I’ve been… fine.” She told her, after a pause. “Sorry— there’s just, not much interesting, here in this town. I mean, not compared to your magic stuff.”

Sophie tilted her head playfully, “Aw, come on, I think non-magic stuff is plenty interesting! In fact, I’m getting pretty sick of magic stuff.” She laughed again. “It’s all I ever hear about these days!”

Crumb smiled, though she didn’t know what to say. Ironic— she aspired to be a poet, and yet whenever she was face to face with another person, her throat felt dry of air and her mind empty of words. It got even worse when she was next to Sophie, most frustratingly.

The clouds above began to loosen their grip, and a warm drizzle of rain pattered down onto their heads. Sophie giggled and wrapped her arm around Crumb, pulling her under the shelter of her umbrella. Crumb felt like her whole body had just lit on fire, and wondered if she might faint. That would be a very embarrassing way to end their meeting.

“My… garden has been doing well.” She said finally, surrounded by the growing drumbeat of rain. She wondered if it would downpour.

“Oh!” Sophie’s smile widened, “Did those sunflowers finally sprout?”

Crumb brightened, “They did!” The rain quickened. Streams of water tumbled off the umbrella and puddled on her shoes. “And there’s tulips now, too. Red ones.”

“It sounds beautiful.” Sophie pressed herself closer, and Crumb could hear her soft breathing. It smelled sweet, like strawberries.

Poetry was rattling through her mind as they sat, shoulder-to-shoulder, their hair intertwined—

_Warm as summer’s finest day _

_Soft as winter’s warmest snow _

_Lovely as spring morning dew _

_Brighter than an autumn glow _

It was kind of terrible— but the thoughts were haphazard and sped through her mind without warning, along with thoughts like _I wish you wouldn’t leave _and _Why can’t you just come with me, and see the garden for yourself? _

“I’ll probably have to go home soon.” Sophie sighed. “My parents will be wondering what I’m doing out in the rain.”

Crumb felt her chest clench. This was the closest they’d ever been— and already, she was thinking about leaving.

“Sophie— there’s… something I wanted to ask you about.”

“What is it?” She turned her face to Crumb’s, shaded purple in the twilight.

“It’s— my mom.” She was quiet for a moment. “She’s… um, she’s sick. I’m hoping she’ll get better soon, but I’m worried. I know there are witches in the city with healing powers…”

Sophie’s eyes widened, “How sick is she? What does she have?”

“I… don’t know. The doctor wasn’t sure. She’s been coughing a lot, and it keeps getting worse— I’m sorry, I know witches don’t use their magic for stuff like this, but—“

Sophie grabbed her hand, sending ripples of sparks down her arm, like pins and needles. “Of course I’ll ask them to help! Crumb, you should have said something sooner.”

Crumb let out a long-held breath, washed over with relief. “Thank you— thank you so much. I-“ She cut herself off. Something stupid might’ve come out, maybe even the word “love”.

“I’d better go.” Sophie stood up, but didn’t let go of Crumb’s hand; the two of them stood together, under the light of the lamppost.

Crumb watched ruefully as a few stray raindrops fell below the umbrella and onto their fingers, intertwined. The raindrops shimmered in the fading light— cold, soft, colorful.

“Sophie…”

She wanted to say something more. To spill her heart out. To tell her to wait one moment longer— to walk with her, to keep holding onto her hand. But it all got stuck in her chest, locked away in her heart.

Before Crumb could pull away, Sophie wrapped one hand in her hair and pressed her lips to hers, warm and soft and upturned. Crumb thought she might be paralyzed, but her eyes fell closed and she felt herself push closer, her fingers wrap tighter, her heart burn brighter. She felt so light, her bones were made of paper. The flowers in her veins were in full bloom. She couldn’t hear the rain over the beating of her heart, which pattered through her chest, unruly and uncontrolled.

Sophie’s nose brushed against Crumb’s as she slowly pulled away, smiling gently. The world felt so much colder as their fingers left embrace.

“I’ll see you next Monday. I’ll be on time.”

Then she turned, handed Crumb her umbrella, and began to walk away.

Crumb felt like she was dying— and also just now becoming alive, all at the same time. She wanted to call after her. She wanted to tell her not to go this time. To tell her, however selfish it might be, that the world didn’t need her magic as much as she needed _her. _But instead she stood there, frozen, in the rain, the umbrella falling limply by her side, as Sophie faded into the darkness. She was gone.

She held the umbrella close, feeling Sophie’s warm handprints on its handle, and she felt another poem bloom in her heart.

_I want to curl up in your chest. _

_To feel the safety of your ribs. _

_I want to tendril veins through hands. _

_I want to breathe into your skin. _

_If I could travel through your lips _

_Then in your heart I’d have my way _

_ _

_I wouldn’t have to go such lengths _

_If just, for once, you would stay_.