The soft music filled the air around us as I danced with my husband, the same elegant tune I knew by heart that played whenever the Sugar Plum Fairy visited our court. All our subjects and visitors had left a few moments ago, and now it was just me and Hans, the man once cursed to be a Nutcracker. He picked me up and held me in the air as if we were putting on a performance for no one but ourselves.

Every night we danced a ballet around the castle. I never needed to think about the steps or worry about wearing out my pointe shoes; they never did wear thin and my feet were never sore. It was simply one of the magics of this world that I had grown used to.

It had been years since I needed to worry about such small things, perhaps more than a decade? I couldn’t be sure. I could still picture how this had all started, my beloved toy coming to life and protecting me during the battle against the horrid Rat King. How I was shrunk down to their size, or perhaps the world grew around me the moment the small war started. A battle that had been going on since the day the two enemies met, and I had seen the end of it.

Months passed by in a blink of an eye, and by the time we had traveled through the wintery fields that belonged to the Snow Queen and King and arrived in the land of sweets, I wanted nothing more than to be his bride. Not that my Hans had wasted anytime in proposing.

He set me down and placed a loving hand to my cheek which I leaned into with a smile. I loved every second with him. This place of candy and magic had long become my home, and even if we weren’t the crowned Rulers, I never wanted to leave.

“I love you,” I told him for what must have been the millionth time today.

He smiled back and rested his forehead against mine. “I love you too.”

We held each other close, my arms wrapped around him as we swayed to the music that slowly faded out. There would be another day of restoring peace to my Nutcracker’s sugary Kingdom tomorrow; even with the Rat King and his servants long gone there was still damage that needed to be fixed. This land had gone years without their King when Hans was trapped in that wooden form. I was told it was nothing short of a miracle that my love turned him human again, but I never thought much of it. I loved him and would do anything I could to help, it was as simple as that.

Hans slightly pulled away, his arm still around my waist. He gazed lovingly into my eyes for a few moments, but when he looked past me, he froze. Worry danced across my features as I wondered what he could have possibly seen before I turned to look for myself.

In the archway stood a tall man, his form covered by a large black cloak. His expression was blank, and his bald head was the only distinguishing trait I could see from here. I was thrown off as a wave of familiarity washed over me the longer I looked at this man.

“Uncle Drosselmeyer?” I asked, my voice filled with uncertainty.

My godfather simply gave me a small smile and opened his arms wide for a hug like he had done countless times when I was younger. The fabric of his cloak draped over his arms like bat wings. It had been years since I saw him, not since the night all of this happened.

I kissed my husband on the cheek before I ran into the familiar embrace.

Herr Drosselmeyer held me close as I could feel the tears prick at my eyes, it had been so long.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asked, his voice just as I remembered.

My head spun as memories of my past were brought back into the light, but I still looked at him confused. “I am home.”

He let out a small laugh as he exhaled through his nose and scooped me up into his arms. I rested my head on his shoulder without a second thought. He turned to leave our throne room and Hans didn’t say anything, he barely moved. All I could see was his expression slowly falling.

“Are you not coming with us?” I asked my husband, even though I couldn’t see him anymore now that I had been carried quite a bit.

“No,” Uncle Drosselmeyer answered for him. “He’s staying here.”

Something felt off about the way he said it, but I was still getting used to having him back to think much of it. It would take a bit before I relearned what each tone of his voice meant.

Godfather carried me towards the large double doors that lead outside. “Wouldn’t you like to see the castle?” I asked with a slight yawn. I was suddenly tired and seemed to get sleepier the farther we went from my husband.

“There’s no time for that Child. It’s time to bring you home.”

The entrance opened as we approached, however, I couldn’t see anything outside, it was difficult to keep my eyes open. I opened my mouth to say something, but I drifted off the second we crossed the threshold.

* * *

My head felt like it was spinning and my whole body felt sore…no, it was more than that- it felt wrong. I placed a hand on my head as I slowly worked to sit up. I hadn’t drank anything in ages, there was no reason for me to be feeling like this.

I blinked open my eyes and prayed the haze that seemed to cover my mind would fade soon. Large glass windows and doors greeted my vision, dusted in a layer of thick snow. I stared at them in confusion, there weren’t any rooms like this in the castle but it seemed so familiar.

I sat up straighter, my eyes widened in recognition. Something poked at my back and I immediately turned around; a large Christmas tree covered in ornaments and tinsel stood up to the ceiling behind me. This wasn’t possible- How could I be in my childhood home?

The plush bench I always used to fall asleep on during the Holidays almost tipped over as I scrambled off it. Everything was exactly as I remembered it: the tree, the decoration, the glass cabinet filled with mine and my brother’s toys against a wall.

Had godfather brought me here? Where was he? And where was Hans? I looked frantically around the room for my husband as I did my best not to panic, surely he was here somewhere.

My gaze fell to the floor after a few moments of searching, and that was when I noticed the small wooden nutcracker next to the bench. No- It couldn’t be. I sank to the floor and cradled the toy in my arms, the same silk handkerchief tied around its neck like I had done years ago. This couldn’t be Hans- I refused to believe that my husband was cursed to be in this form again.

Tears pricked at my eyes. Why was all this happening? This had to be a dream. I refused to let years and the love of my life slip through my fingers like this.

“Hans? Please tell me this isn’t you. Come back to me Hans,” I sobbed to the doll in my arms.

I cried more when I was met with no response.

Wind made the glass doors shutter but I paid no attention to them. For all I knew my husband was practically dead, a cold breeze drifting through the house was the least of my worries. My love had turned him human once before, why wasn’t it working now?

Someone cleared their throat from across the room and I looked up with blurry eyes. Harr Drosselmeyer stood in the corner of the room near the grandfather clock; he still had the large black cloak draped over him. “Clara,” he said as more of a statement than a question.

I held the nutcracker closer to my chest as tears fell down my face. “Why am I here? Why would you bring me back?”

His face didn’t show any emotions, just the slight hint of sympathy in his voice. “I brought you to that world as a gift, but it was time to go home.”

“That land was my home-!” I said, my voice breaking as I spoke. “I’m their Queen. I have people I need to help, I have a husband!”

The same look, nothing more than slight pity. “Not anymore. Go to bed Clara.”

I quickly rose to my feet, the wooden doll still clutched against my chest. It was the only thing I currently had of my precious Hans. “You can’t bring me back here after a decade and expect me to go to bed without questions.”

But apparently he did. My godfather disappeared in a blink of an eye. I raced towards the grandfather clock, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Uncle Drosselmeyer!” I commanded, my voice ringing through the parlor. But I already knew it was a useless attempt. He wouldn’t come back, at least not tonight.

I could feel my world crumble around me. How could he do this to me? Godfather was the one who gave me the nutcracker in the first place, he was there during the battle with the Rat King, he- he smiled at me and Hans before we left for the Land of Sweets. I never saw him after that until years later and now he forced me back to “reality”. I felt sick.

Footsteps echoed at the top of the stairs. “Clara? Are you still up Dear?”

More emotions than I could process flooded over me. Mother. It had been so long since I had seen her; or Father and Fritz. Would she even recognize me after all this time?

She appeared at the top of the stairs, a soft smile on her face. The sight of her was enough to make tears form in my eyes. How had I gone so long without seeing her? Mother made her way to the parlor, her nightgown trailed on the floor behind her. She was just as I remembered.

She gave me a concerned look. “Clara Dear, are you all right?” Mother placed a hand on my cheek and wiped away the tears that had fallen as I looked up at her.

But that couldn’t be right- I had grown over the years, I should be almost the same height as her by now. Yet as far as I could tell I was no taller than the last time I saw her; when I was a child. Surely she hadn’t grown as well?

I looked down at my appearance for the first time since I had been brought here. I no longer wore the elegant light pink gown I had on when I was dancing with my husband. Instead, it was a white party dress covered in layers of tulle and a red ribbon…the same outfit I wore the night everything happened.

No… It can’t be- I couldn’t be a child again. I had grown up, I’d gotten married, I rule a Kingdom. Hans and I celebrated my twenty-fourth birth only a few months ago. How could I be twelve again?

Mother clearly wasn’t aware of the distress that ran through my brain. “Let’s get you to bed. It’s far too late for you to be up,” she said gently.

I didn’t know what else to do but follow her upstairs to my childhood bedroom.

Nothing had changed. The walls were still a nice cream color and the shelves full of my books and toys hadn’t even gathered a layer of dust. It was as if I never left. She sat me down on the bed, the soft pink comforter wrinkled underneath me.

She kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Get some rest Dear.”

“Good night Mother,” my voice sounded hollow, but once again she didn’t seem to notice.

She lit the lantern on my nightstand and left the room without another word, closing the door behind her.

I kept the wooden nutcracker close to my chest. It was the only thing I had left of Hans. I still refused to believe this could be real. Even with everything I had seen, the thought of somehow being a child again was too much. Surely if I continued to tell myself this wasn’t happening sooner or later I would wake up in my proper bed, next to my husband, and I could tell him all about the horrible dream I had. But part of me already knew that wouldn’t happen.

I laid down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to my shoulders; I didn’t care if I slept in the party gown. Right now night clothes were the least of my concerns. I hated that I didn’t know what happened to Hans.

Was he still at home, left to wonder when I would return? Was he somewhere in this town forced into a child’s body as well? Or was he truly this nutcracker again? Cursed to think and see everything around him, but never able to talk or move on his own. As much as I wanted to believe I currently held my husband, I prayed that wasn’t the case. He didn’t deserve to go through that again. He never should have gone through that in the first place.

Tears fell down my face now that I was alone. My mind slowly tried to figure out everything that had happened. I needed to see Uncle Drosselmeyer, there were so many questions and I demanded answers. But it was painfully clear he wouldn’t come tonight; there was nothing I could do right now.

First thing tomorrow I would summon him to the house, and if he didn’t show I would walk to his home if I had to, no matter how long it took. But I would need rest for that. As sick as I felt at the thought of doing nothing, any plan I could think of would need to wait until morning.

My eyes were heavy from the tears and exhaustion that washed over me. Even if it would be horrible sleeping in a bed alone after all these years, I knew weariness would win rather quickly, and I was right. I drifted off after a few moments, the nutcracker still pressed against my heart.

* * *

The pattern of how mornings went when I was younger quickly came back as one of our maids, Louisa today, drew open my curtains and let sunlight pour into the room. She laid out a new dress and garments and ushered me to wash up before breakfast.

The washroom was the same. The hallway was the same. Everything about this house was exactly as I remembered no matter how dim those memories had become. It gave me horrible déjà vu.

The scent of eggs and sausage filled the air as I got closer to the kitchen. Everyone was already seated at the table, and part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I had slept in later than I was supposed to. I didn’t remember our old schedules anymore, and I hardly knew what time it was currently. Too many things ran through my head to even think about checking the time.

The fresh pot of coffee calmed my nerves the smallest bit when I spotted it, at least I could wake myself up a little more. I grabbed a cup and started to pour myself a glass.

“What are you doing?” Father asked.

I couldn’t help but look a little confused. “I’m getting a drink,” I answered. What was wrong with that?

“You’re well aware coffee isn’t for children, Clara.”

I wanted to tell him that I was hardly a child, but as much as the comment infuriated me I was well aware how foolish I would look if I said that aloud. I hated how I was back in this twelve year old body.

The glass was plucked out of my hand and replaced with a cup of tea before I could say anything. I had nothing against the black tea we always had at meals, but this was certainly a day that required more caffeine to get through it.

I would grab some later, right now I just needed to make it through breakfast. I took my spot at the table across from Fritz.

He hadn’t aged at all but at this point I wasn’t sure what I had expected. His toy sword leaned against the chair and he had on his blue soldier hat Father gifted him…I supposed last night. Fritz talked excitedly about all the battles he had planned out with his toy men and the friends he would compete in “dangerous” sword fights with.

He hadn’t changed at all, and I was surprised to see this slightly bothered me. I had grown up, I had matured. It was strange to see that he hadn’t done the same, but at the same time I wasn’t sure I could picture him acting any other way.

I suddenly remembered how he had tried to play with my wooden nutcracker and accidentally ripped its head off. There was no way he could have known the nutcracker was alive, and it really didn’t hurt Hans. But that didn’t stop me from feeling the slightest tinge of anger at the memory.

“You’re so quiet Dear,” my mother commented. “Did you sleep well?”

I hadn’t paid attention to their conversation and struggled to remember what the topic of discussion even was. I thought I had gotten better at zoning out while still being aware of what was going on around me, it was a rather useful skill some days as a Queen. But I suppose not.

I nodded, “Yes, although I’m still a bit tired.” The coffee would have helped with that.

“I’m sure you can rest some more once we’re finished eating if that’s what you would like.”

“Thank you Mother.”

I didn’t say much else during the remainder of our meal. I honestly wasn’t sure what else to say. I felt trapped in the decision of attempting to act as I did when I was a child like they expected or simply act as I normally would and tell them the truth if they asked about a change. But I would most likely be sent to an asylum if I did that.

Another maid, Bethany, cleared all of our dishes the moment we finished eating and quickly refilled my tea. Hans and I had servants at the castle but even though the situation was similar everything seemed slightly off. Had Father always insisted the table be cleared so quickly?

Mother politely placed her napkin in front of her and rose from her seat. “I should start preparations if I’d like to get everything done in time for dinner.”

That caught my attention. “Is Uncle Drosselmeyer joining?” I asked quickly. It was Christmas Day, and I knew he should be in town. I needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

Fritz grinned at the idea, “Can he? It’s much more fun when he’s around.”

Mother and Father shared a glance; no one ever truly knew what would happen when it came to Herr Drosselmeyer.

“We can certainly ask,” Father told us.

My brother looked rather pleased at that answer and I couldn’t help but feel relieved. With any luck I should be able to get things back to the way they’re supposed to be by nightfall.

We were all dismissed from the table and I quickly made my way up to my old room. I couldn’t stand being away from my nutcracker, but I didn’t want to raise any questions by bringing it down with me. There was no easy way to explain that I was almost positive my husband, whom they didn’t know I had, had been cursed into the form of a wooden toy again.

Relief washed over me when I saw he was still on the bed where I had left him. I sat down and moved the doll onto my lap.

“Oh Hans, I’m sure I can convince Uncle Drosselmeyer to send us back. I’ll make sure I find a way.”

There wasn’t a response. I hadn’t expected one, but unfortunately that didn’t make the lack of hearing his voice any easier to cope with.

If I absolutely needed to, I would find a way to accept that I had to be a child again, that I would need to redo almost a decade of my life. But I couldn’t bear the thought that Hans might be trapped like this once again. He had told me what it had been like to be cursed to be a nutcracker, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I carefully untied the silk handkerchief from around his neck and placed it to the side. It really didn’t do anything to make sure the wooden head stayed on, it was simply a gesture to help calm me from my tears back then. I appreciate the attempt.

The rabbit fur of his fake hair felt soft between my fingers. It felt similar to his black locks, but it wasn’t the same. Of course it wouldn’t be the same.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t simply pick up where this life had left off, I had no desire to be a child again. I had been through far too much to act like a clueless little girl. But even as a former Queen there was nothing I could do until Uncle Drosselmeyer arrived; he was the one who started all of this.

The bed slightly creaked under me as I laid down, perhaps some rest would do me some good. I could drift off and pray when I woke up it would be time for Christmas dinner.

I didn’t care about any of the many presents under the tree, although part of me was a little curious to see what twelve year old me had wanted so badly. My family always gave more gifts than I could count, but my husband and I simply did a single present each year. My favorite was a gold heart shaped locket that I never took off, but it didn’t travel back here with me. As far as I could tell everything that came from the Land of Sweets had to stay in that land.

The doll felt natural in my arms as if I was always meant to hold it, but it did little to stop the way my stomach turned at it not truly being Hans.

Only a few more hours and then this could all be over, I reminded myself over and over again as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

I woke to a soft knock as Lunetta slowly pushed open the door.

“Miss Stahlbaum? I was told to inform you your godfather has arrived.”

I sat up the moment I processed her words. “Thank you Lunetta- I’ll be down shortly.”

The maid nodded and closed the door behind her.

I wasn’t sure what time it was but that hardly mattered. He had arrived, and I could finally get all of this taken care of; I wouldn’t let him leave until he agreed to send me back. I held my nutcracker close as I made my way down the stairs, it took all my self-control not to run. As much as I wanted to rush, my parents hated when we ran in the house, I could spare a few seconds.

Herr Drosselmeyer stood near the bottom of the staircase, him and Father in conversation. It sounded like they spoke of his newest invention; normally I would have loved to hear about it as well, but I had more pressing matters at hand.

They turned before I had reached the bottom step.

“Glad to see you up and about, are you feeling better my dear?” Father asked.

I nodded, “very much. Would it be all right if I spoke with Uncle for a bit?”

My godfather’s expression was unreadable, but Father gave a small chuckle. “Of course, I’ll go see if your mother needs any help finishing up in the kitchen.”

He placed a hand on Drosselmeyer’s shoulder before he left the room, my smile dropped once he was out of sight.

“Send me back.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Clara.”

I could feel the irritation stir within me. “You were the one who sent me there in the first place, I know you were.”

“I was,” he confirmed, but he didn’t say anything else.

“If you sent me there once then you can do it again,” I said firmly.

He looked me over, and part of me wondered how he saw me. He knew I had changed; he saw for himself how much I had aged. But I had a feeling I was still a twelve year old child to him.

“I don’t have enough magic to send you back, just as I didn’t have enough magic to keep you there.”

I could feel my world start to fall apart. That couldn’t be true, I refused, there had to be a way to return to the Land of Sweets. I wouldn’t leave my husband just because this man told me it wasn’t possible to go back.

“Why would you even send me there if you were just going to rip me away from the life I had made?” I asked, unable to stop the annoyance from seeping into my voice.

His expression softened the smallest bit. “I gave you the gift you always wanted. I let you grow up, experience love, learn what it was like to live inside a fairytale.”

“And you took it away! If you knew this would happen from the start then it was never a gift, it was an act of cruelty,” I hissed. I no longer cared if anyone heard our conversation. They could think I was crazy all they wanted because I had started to feel that way. “I fell in love-! I had people who relied on me, I had a purpose. And you ripped all of that away-” My heart raced in my chest. “Now the man I love most is trapped as a nutcracker because of you-!”

Uncle Drosselmeyer stood there quietly as I had my little outburst and waited a few seconds to make sure I had finished speaking. “That toy isn’t your husband.”

Everything inside me shattered. Five words and I felt like I could no longer breathe. I knew there was the possibility, and under no circumstance did I want Hans to be trapped like this- But how could this not be? It was the same doll that he had transformed from all those years ago; the handkerchief was still around his neck when I found him.

My hands shook as I held the nutcracker closer to my chest. “How could you know that?”

“There are many things I can do Clara, but lying to you is not one of them.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, I really did have nothing left of my husband. I didn’t know how I would get home. I had no way to know what happened to my Hans. For all I knew he was waiting for me to come back, but it would never happen. I choked back a sob, what if he thought I had left him?

I sank to my knees and openly wept on the staircase. I didn’t care how unqueenly it was or if it would be viewed as childish; everything I loved had been taken away from me. I was allowed a few tears.

Uncle Drosselmeyer placed a hand on my shoulder. “The pain will fade, Dear. Soon this will be nothing more than a memory.”

That felt like the worst thing he could have said. “I will feel this way forever if I have to live without him. Hans is my husband, and nothing you can do will change that.”

He looked at me almost as if he were disappointed, but he didn’t say anything else.

* * *

I don’t know when I fainted or why. It might have been from the pure despair I felt, or perhaps Drosselmeyer made me if that was something he was capable of. All I knew was when I awoke I was back in bed, my right arm was wrapped in bandages. Mother said I had a fever and injured my elbow when I collapsed. I would be on bedrest until the doctor cleared me but that was all right; I had no desire to do anything anymore.

The nutcracker doll stood on my nightstand, only an arms length away, but I no longer knew if I wanted to reach for it. It felt wrong to not have it in my embrace, but if it truly wasn’t Hans…what was the point?

Everyone flowed in and out of my room as the days went on. Fritz wanted to make sure I was all right, although I could tell he was disappointed our parents wouldn’t let him open all the presents until we could do it as a family.

Mother had brought me one of the many boxes with my name on it, but she didn’t bring anymore when I left it unopened. I wasn’t in the mood for any more “gifts”. Father brought me a mug of coffee with breakfast which did make me feel a little better, I gave him a small smile in return. But I wasn’t sure how I could honestly enjoy anything with the knowledge Hans would most likely never be by my side again. The idea was too painful to think about.

The doctor came in a few days later to fully remove my bandages; there was a small bruise and a faint scar from where my elbow must have hit the edge of the stairs, but I could move it just fine. My fever had faded as well, although they were concerned I didn’t leap for joy at the knowledge I could end my bedrest tomorrow.

Drosselmeyer had left the day after our conversation, which I had been surprised to learn no one else had heard, although I supposed that was for the best. My parents didn’t need to hear their child yell about magic and being married. They already didn’t like it when we clung onto fantasy a little too much and there was no way they would ever believe what I had gone through, even if I got Uncle Drosselmeyer to tell them it was true.

As far as they knew I was simply their little girl, and I had fallen sick. They didn’t need to know how much I hated being in this house. Just as I had quickly forgotten about my life here when I traveled to the Land of Sweets, the memories of my Kingdom slowly became harder to recall. I couldn’t stand the idea that one day it might be gone forever.

Father had given me a notepad upon request and I wrote down everything I could, I only stopped when I had used up all the ink or my hand was too sore to hold the quill. It took two days before I had to ask for more parchment. I knew they were concerned for my sanity.

I had moved the nutcracker to lay next to me in the bed, propped up against the pillows. My stomach twisted whenever I looked at it but I couldn’t bear the thought of putting it somewhere else. It really was all I had left of that world.

After a week of my behavior Mother said I was allowed to stay in bed, as long as I came down for meals. I simply nodded my head. I knew I couldn’t act this way forever and I hate how concerned I must have made them. But it was hard to do anything when it felt like your heart had shattered into a million pieces.

I didn’t say anything as we ate and only gave short responses when spoken too. My parents didn’t press too much, they must have seen this as an improvement since I was out of my bedroom, but I knew that patience wouldn’t last much longer. I would mourn the separation from my husband for as long as I was alive, unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t show it. Soon I would have to act as if everything were all right again; even if that made everything worse for me, it would make things better for my family. That had to be what truly mattered, for at least that was something I could control.

* * *

A month had passed before I saw Herr Drosselmeyer again. The pages I wrote were the only things that kept my memories of the Land of Sweets from fading completely, some days I had to read them twice to recall all the details.

Once I had started to partake in conversations again, Mother allowed us to open up the presents. I knew Fritz had been not so patiently waiting for that. I received handfuls of sugar toys and chocolates, a new collection of dolls, and multiple new dresses covered in lace and frills.

I expected that I would need to act delighted when I unwrapped all the gifts I wanted a decade ago, but the sight of everything did fill me with joy. The only problem was I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. I wasn’t nostalgic at the gifts, and I feared as my memories slipped away, my years would too. I didn’t want to have the mentality of a twelve year old again.

Someone knocked on the front door after dinner and Anneliese quickly moved to open it. It had been a couple of weeks since I had relearned the pattern of things, but I couldn’t think of any reason we would have a visitor this late.

The young lady quickly returned to tell us who was here. “Sir Drosselmeyer has arrived, he says he’s brought his nephew.”

My brows tightened in confusion. I had known my godfather all my life and not once had he ever mentioned having a nephew, I was only vaguely aware he had a brother. Perhaps they were a small child? Although if that were the case I wasn’t sure why their father wouldn't come with.

Father stood up from the table to greet our guests and I tilted my head a little to try and see. His nephew looked about my current age, perhaps a little taller than me. He had straight black hair that was a bit longer than boys normally had it cut and piercing blue eyes.

I felt my heart catch in my throat. It couldn’t be.

I had only come to my senses just in time to hear godfather introduce them.

“I’d like all of you to meet my nephew, Hans Drosselmeyer.” I didn’t miss the pointed look he gave me.

It took all my self-control to fight back the tears that started to form in my eyes. Was my Hans really here? This was far from how I expected to see him again, but if it really was him- the details certainly didn’t matter.

“Perhaps Clara and Hans should step out to get acquainted?” he suggested. “They’re rather close in age. I’m sure they’ll get along quite nicely.”

No one had any complaints.

The two of us left the room, and my heart pounded in my chest. I was almost certain, but I was too afraid to say anything on the off chance I might be wrong. What if this was simply a cruel trick?

Hans wrapped his arms around me the moment everyone was out of sight and I melted in his embrace. It was far too familiar to be a coincidence.

“Is it really you?” I asked, I didn’t even care that my voice broke the slightest bit.

“It is.”

Tears rolled down my face as I began to sob. Hans held me close as he placed a comforting hand on the back of my head. I had no clue what all of this meant for the future, I never imagined living a life with him here in this world. But I had my husband back. My beautiful, sweet, incredible Hans, and that was all that mattered.

He pulled back the slightest bit to reach into his pocket and pulled out a gift. “I hope this will make up for our time apart.”

I almost laughed at the idea of him giving me a present. All of this was in no way his fault, but I wasn’t able to stop the tears yet. I pulled back the gold ribbon on the small red box; it looked just like the ones he gave me at home.

I cried a little more when I saw what was inside: a golden heart shaped locket, identical to the one he had given me years ago.

This truly was my Hans, and now that I had him back, I would never let him go.

Metis:

Power is an interesting thing. It drives people to madness and pushes them to do the extreme, the unthinkable. When you’re immortal, you always think you’ve seen it all; when you’ve lived for thousands of years, what’s left to surprise you? But that was before the power hungry Titan.

Everyone feared when Kronos swallowed his children whole, one by one because a prophecy said they would be his downfall. Just as he had overthrown his father, one of them would do the same.

He might not have started any bloodshed between the Titans or Mortals, but when everyone knows what you’re capable of, extra violence isn’t necessary. No one dared to challenge him.

Until his youngest son Zeus came to me asking for help. Switched with a rock by his mother and raised in secret; he would be the one to defeat Kronos. Just as the prophecy had said.

I was clever and cunning, a Goddess of Wisdom. I would shift into any form to get the information I needed. Together we could form a plan.

As powerful as Zeus was, he would need more help then I could give. But he had five siblings that would work perfectly. Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon; it didn’t matter if they had been eaten if they were still in the Titan’s stomach. And there were lots of things that could make a Deity sick.

We planned for days; there was only one shot to get this right and even with Fate on our side we couldn’t take any risks. This needed to be perfect. But with every second we spent together I fell more in love with the God of the Sky; there was no room for love in battle strategies; all it would be is a pointless distraction.

I played my part, turned myself into someone Kronos trusted enough to serve his drink and spiked it with an emetic. Once he drank it, I stood to the side; my job was done. It was time for Zeus’.

One by one, in reverse of how they’d been consumed, the Titan- God of Time spit up the rock and the rest of his children.

Ichor poured over Olympus as the three sons claimed their rightful weapons: A helm of darkness, a trident, and Zeus’ powerful lightning bolts. And with their sister’s help, Kronos was defeated. In one day it was over, things would be as they should.

They locked their father in the pits of Tartarus where no one could reach him and named Zeus the new King of the Gods. And he picked me to be his Queen. I was thrilled, my love had chosen me and together we ruled Olympus as a strong and powerful council. It was Elysium.

But prophecy had a way of ruining things.

I told my husband of my vision, that I was destined to give him two beautiful children. A daughter, equal in strength to us and full of wisdom, and a son who would grow to be the next King of the Gods. I didn’t see the harm. I was too blinded by love.

Zeus asked me to transform into a fly, something I had done countless times before. Disguising oneself as a small insect was a perfect way to get information. So I did. My husband swallowed my like his father did to his siblings. I may have been his love, but he wouldn’t let anything come in the way of his rule. He was no better than the Titan.

I used what magic I had left to forge our daughter a helmet fit for a warrior, and Athena emerged from a crack in his skull. But our son was never born, and I was never freed.

Themis:

A Goddess of Wisdom and the personification of Justice. I could see the future and controlled the Oracle of Delphi; I was the interpreter for the Gods’ will. Yet even with all that knowledge I fell for Zeus, and he fell for me too.

I warned him and Poseidon to not pursue Thetis as any son of her’s would be more powerful than his father. If his father were a God that would go horribly for everyone. So Poseidon married Amphitrite, and Zeus arranged for Thetis to wed a mortal King; and made me his second bride.

Perhaps it was nothing more than damage control for Metis, to have the Goddess of Justice, Divine Law, Divine Order as his bride would surely make quite the impression. Or maybe it was love. It was for me, and I considered that enough.

I didn’t care so much about personally ruling Olympus, I cared about how it was ruled, and Zeus didn’t have a problem with that. Perhaps he thought it gave him more freedom and power, but I didn’t mind. I was happy and so was he.

We had three bright daughters, and they would help keep Olympus just, a wonderful hendiatris. Eunomia the Goddess of Law, Dike the Goddess of Justice, and Eirene the Goddess of Peace. They worked in perfect harmony with each other.

What more could a mother ask for?

Three more girls were born, and when we were deciding their roles Zeus gave them the most important of responsibilities. It would be challenging for anyone, but if anyone could do it, it would be our children. They would have our guidance and the role would work much better split between three than forced onto one deity. Our daughters would decide how long a mortal lived, if they would be good or evil, if they would be important. They would become the Fates.

Clotho spun their mortal threads while the child was in the womb, she created their lifelines and they called her the Spinner.

Lachesis determined how long the string would be, how long the mortal would live, so they named her the Allotter.

And my youngest child, the most stubborn and deemed the Un-Turnable, Atropos was responsible for cutting the threads. She held the scissors that would end the mortal's life when she deemed fit and finished the cycle her sister had started.

Their job was hard, and they did it well.

I was happy with Zeus. We had six incredible daughters and no sons that he feared would overthrow him. I thought it was perfect. Perhaps our relationship was more business than pleasure, not that either of us minded, it worked for us after all. But relationships are a weird thing when you’re immortal. I don’t know if Zeus and I drifted apart or if it was a sudden change.

All I know is one moment I was his wife, and the next I wasn’t.

Eurynome:

I didn’t spend much time with Zeus; I was indifferent to him. I watched over the water-meadows and pasturelands. I was a daughter of the ocean and my Oceanid appearance pleased him; and maybe I was pleased with him as well. I loved him enough to let him put a ring on my finger and we had three beautiful children; they were Goddesses of Grace and Beauty.

My daughter Euphrosyne was the embodiment of merriment. All she wanted to do was fill the world with pleasant moments and good will, she spent her free time dancing with her sisters. It was only fitting to name her the Goddess of Joy. Her presence alone was enough to lift someone’s spirit.

Thalia was in charge of banquets, she loved hosting parties that were luxurious and plentiful and filled with everything anyone would desire. So we made that her job, and she loved every part of it. Whether it was for Gods or Mortals, every festival our child planned was truly one worth attending.

And my youngest Aglaea, my Charis, she was beautiful and full of splendor and glory. She covered herself in glittering adornments that sparkled in the sun. She served Aphrodite with her sisters and became her messenger. She was proud of her job.

Together they were known as the Graces, the Charities.

Zeus may not have loved me as much as his past wives, but he was pleased with our daughters.

But it wasn’t until years after our marriage ended that I had my son.

Disowned from his mother and cast out from Olympus, my Hephaestus fell down from the sky. I nursed him back to health and raised him with the help of Thetis. Hera might want nothing to do with him, but I would forever be grateful for my son.

He learned to forge anything the Gods could ever need. Even if he was unable to walk, he never let that stop him. Any weapon a God owned that was worth anything of value, any weapon powerful enough to kill any monster or enemy; my son was the one who made it.

It wasn’t long until he and my youngest daughter fell in love, and once they were married no one could deny that Hephaestus was my son. Not Hera’s. Even if his father made him marry Aphrodite later on. My Charis was his first love, and she would always love him.

I may only be known because Zeus picked me as his third wife, but when I look back on everything, my marriage to him was a very small part of my immortal life. I never desired to be Queen of the Gods. Just as Zeus never desired to stay with me for all eternity. For him I was just a way to get from point A to point B, but I didn’t mind. In some way I did the same with him.

I had my daughters, and I had my son, and that was enough for me.

Demeter:

For me, my marriage to Zeus was purely business. I never loved him, but he was very interested in me. Even I had to admit an alliance between the God of the Sky and the Goddess of Agriculture would be a powerful one. He told me I could become Queen of the Gods, that I could have control over everything I could possibly need. I would be a fool to refuse, not that I was given much of a choice. I wasn’t happy with it, but marrying him would give me valuable resources.

Our union did give me something more valuable than I could ever imagine. Our daughter, Kore. We split our time between Olympus with all of the Gods and its festivities, and in the mortal realm. She grew up around Nymphs and Humans and learned the land until she could grow anything her heart desired. Flowers would sprout at her feet when she ran through the fields.

The Goddess of Spring, and I vowed I would do anything to keep her safe.

Her father didn’t have the same ideas. If it didn’t affect him specifically and right in that moment, he didn’t care what went on with everyone else. Hades asked Zeus for my daughter's hand, and he gave it to him without even asking me. I was clueless. All I knew was one day she was wandering in a meadow and she didn’t come back.

I would do anything I could to bring my Kore home, Zeus never fathomed how far I would go. He tried to dismiss it multiple times, never told me where she went, simply said I should let it go. Anyone with a heart should have known I wouldn’t do that. Only Hecate helped me search until Helios told us who my husband had given her to.

I may be the Goddess of Grain, but I was also the Goddess of Starvation and Hunger. If they weren’t aware of that fact before, they definitely were now. I was not above sacrificing hundreds of Mortals if it brought my daughter back.

All of their crops withered away until they were nothing but shriveled husks. The land was impossible to work, and I refused to let anything grow. They could only last so long until starvation set and killed all of their worshippers. Every God knew what they needed to do if they wanted it to stop. Return to my daughter.

By the time she was back in my arms, Kore had been given a new title: Persephone, Queen of the Underworld. She might claim to love the God of the Dead, but all I could focus on was what Zeus had done. Now she was forced to spend half of the year in the underworld, forever tied to that lifeless realm. I left Zeus and never spoke about our marriage again. I would live on earth with my daughter, and Olympus would be ignored unless it was necessary. I knew how to learn from my mistakes, I would never make the mistake of trusting him again.

Mnemosyne:

My relationship with Zeus was a short one. Even as the Goddess of Memory, he was able to hide his true identity until long after we were together; to me he was simply a mortal shepherd.

But even if our marriage was built on nothing but lies and misconceptions, I got nine beautiful daughters out of it.

Calliope wrote the most beautiful poetry I had ever heard, and she was known for her epic poems. A writing tablet always in her hands in case inspiration struck. Eloquence was the only way she knew how to speak, it was no wonder Mortals considered her the leader between her sisters.

While some knew her for her marvelous lyre playing, Clio knew everything there was to know about history. She would read every ancient text if she could. Whether it was written in a book, scroll, or stone tablets, it didn’t matter. Even if Mortals didn’t deem it worth teaching to the next generation, she knew it.

Euterpe loved lyrical poems, she wrote songs that had enchanting words and a delightful tune to match. When she wasn’t singing her lyrics, she would play on her double flute until her heart's content. To humans she was a Giver of Delight, and I fully believed she fit that title.

Erato was the romantic. She wrote and sang of love and desire and knew how to phrase things in a way that made someone’s heart skip a beat when she spoke to them. Her poems weren’t for everyone, but they were lovely and plenty loved to listen to her work.

On the other hand my daughter Melpomene went hand in hand with tragedy. When she sang, it was songs of mourning for people who had passed. Some said she had the voice of a siren, some claimed she was a murder loving Goddess. But even if she only sang tragic songs of death, you had to admit that they were beautiful.

Polyhymnia was the Goddess of Hymns. People may have considered her serious and pensive, but when a poem or hymn was meant to be sacred, she kept it that way. And that was all she wanted.

Terpsichore could never sit still, she wanted to dance and that’s what she did. She would play her lyre as she spun around the fields, no matter how difficult the steps were she did them with such grace you would think she could do it in her sleep if she desired. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d tried; it was truly magnificent to watch.

Crowned with ivy, Thalia always had a joyous air around her. Her laugh would fill the stage as she interacted with the actors. She was known for comedy, and the shows were always delightful when she had a hand in creating them. She could always lift your spirits with a single play.

And my daughter Urania loved gazing at the heavens when the stars were shining. She knew everything about the night sky and was a master of astronomy. If you were lost, she could guide you by the stars alone and would know the name of every one. She certainly lived up for her name.

I might be able to help mortals learn languages or remember pleasant moments. But if they were to only have one memory of me- if they could only recall a few things about the Goddess of Memory- I would want it to be my daughters. The Muses.

Leto:

Our relationship might have been more of a scandal than a marriage, but I think we will always think of each other as husband and wife. Unfortunately, by the time we actually got together, he was already married to the new Queen of the Gods, Hera. Although we had feelings for each other long before she was in the picture, things didn’t play out the easy way. But where’s the fun in easy?

Everyone on Olympus knew Zeus was never a faithful husband and never would be no matter what lies he told his new bride. Yet somehow the Goddess of Marriage ended up with him.

Really it should have been expected that something would have happened between us, although my closeness with Hera didn’t help the situation at all.

She was furious, and I suppose rightfully so, but when she found out I was pregnant she did everything in her power to keep me from giving birth. I was banished from Olympus and forbade any land or island from sheltering me. Of course Zeus did nothing as his lover was chased away from place to place.

It took a bit of convincing for the island of Delos to let me give birth there as not even the earth wanted to go against Hera’s orders, but since the floating land wasn’t connected to the ocean floor, I technically wasn’t breaking any rules.

Of course, finding the only land in existence that would host me would have been too easy. She had to make it as difficult as possible. Having my twins was a very long and painful process since our Queen didn’t allow Eileithyia, the Goddess of Childbirth to come to my aid.

But it was all worth it once it was over.

My beautiful Artemis was as radiant as the Moon herself. Vowed to eternal maidenhood she spent all her time with her followers. She kept the girls safe and let them stay with her forever and young as long as they followed her rules; there would be no problems as long as they stayed away from men. She was the Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon, and she was truly fantastic with a bow.

And my Apollo, as bright as the Sun and brilliant at anything he put his mind to. Poetry, healing, archery, music, even prophecies. He was the God of so many things it was impossible to keep track, but I couldn’t be more proud.

My twins were opposites, but at the same time they were so similar no one could deny they were two halves of the same coin. I would do anything to protect them, and I knew my kids would do the same for me.

I may have been banished for my affair with Zeus, but it was definitely worth it.

Hera:

I never wanted Zeus to be my husband, but it needed to be done after he had tricked me. I only had one condition: I was the Goddess of Marriage. I had to be his last wife. I should have added more terms.

We had an extravagant wedding. Everything had to be perfect for the King and Queen of Olympus; especially when we made it clear this would be his last wedding. Lavish barely described the amount of gold glittering in the banquet hall. But no one was sparing any expenses for this day.

However, our vows meant nothing to him. It didn’t take long for Zeus to return to his normal habits. He wanted me to be his wife- he made sure I would be- but the second he saw a beautiful mortal he was off chasing them. He would rage if he didn’t get what he wanted.

Zeus was barely a better King then he was a husband.

But I was their Queen now. I respected the other Gods, and they respected in return. Zeus listened to me. Surely I could find a way to fix this; and if not, perhaps it was someone else’s turn to rule Olympus.

I’m not perfect, I admit that, but other Olympians agreed it would be better if I ruled alone. I slipped something into his drink and once he was asleep Poseidon and Athena helped tie him to his throne. It may have been a cheap way of doing things, but he would have to negotiate now. He couldn’t ignore the problems when the Gods were willing to go against him.

But we didn’t count on Briareus, or what would happen once he was untied. Zeus was a wrathful God, and he didn’t go easy on those who tried to go against him.

I was hung from the sky; gold chains tightly bound my arms and legs, heavy anvils tried to pull me back down to the surface. All I could do was scream. The pain was blinding, I couldn’t think. And no one helped me. I was their warning. I was what would happen if anyone tried to go against him, and he made sure everyone knew the consequences.

I was only let down because Zeus couldn’t handle hearing my cries anymore, but on one condition: I would never go against him again. I had no choice but to accept. I didn’t doubt that he would have left me there for all eternity if I didn’t.

I could never try to overthrow him, but I wouldn’t do nothing.

Mortals considered me jealous, they thought I was a Goddess to be feared. I couldn’t punish Zeus, but I could punish his affairs. I treated our marriage as sacred; he should have known I would make him do the same.

If Zeus slept with someone else, I would take my wrath out on them. I cursed them, turned them into animals. I wasn’t above punishing the child as well. Soon Mortals did it to themselves, if Zeus didn’t do it first. They thought it was better to destroy everything themselves then wait for me to find out. No one wanted to anger me. And once Heracles came around, Zeus finally got the hint to stop fooling around. Even if it was only with Humans, it was still a large improvement.

People may see me as cruel and vengeful, but Mortals never know the whole story.

I’m the Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Marriage and Protector of Women; and I am far more than Zeus’ wife.

The last thing August wanted to do was run downtown to the local ‘witch’ shop so his little sister could get some herbal tea.

“Why can’t you do it?” He asked as he turned the page in the book he was reading.

Sarah crossed her arms with an annoyed huff. “I got a speeding ticket, and Mum won’t let me use the car- and it’s too far to walk.” She walked across the room to sit next to him on the couch. “Please.”

August set the book down, his thumb in between the pages. “You’ll get the keys back in a week; you can wait for tea.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “If you go, I’ll make dinner and pay for gas,” she offered.

He stared at the girl, he could tell she wasn’t going to let this go.

“Fine.”

And that’s how he ended up at the Charmed Lotus, the store that would change his life.

The bell rang and August felt immediately uneasy as he walked through the door. From the sweet scent of the dried plants and occult atmosphere, he wanted to leave as soon as he could.

Enchanting music played faintly in the background and August realized he had no clue where anything was; this was his first and last time in the store after all. After scanning shelves filled with everything from herbs to potions, he decided to ask the employee before he wasted any more time.

“Can I help you?” The girl asked.

She had long, wavy auburn hair and pale skin coated in freckles; the opposite of what you’d expect for a witch. With her army green high-rise shorts and sunflower patterned shirt. She looked a bit out of place yet perfectly blended in with the shop.

For a moment he thought that maybe she was just a normal girl working a part-time job. But from the wand and sunflower adorned pointed hat tossed aside on the desk, and the collection of crystal jewelry she wore; there was no denying what she was. A witch.

“Hello?” She asked as she waved her hand in front of his face when he didn’t respond.

“Sorry,” August said with a final glance at her name tag: Hazel. “I’m picking up an order.”

“Last name?”

“Lucado.”

His eyes wandered around the shop once again as Hazel skimmed through a large book of handwritten order forms.

“Sarah?” She questioned.

“My sister,” August answered with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

She nodded and stood up, “Your package is in the back,” she said with a smile before disappearing through a door.

Every fiber of his being felt off as he stood alone in the store. Shelves lined with love potions, voodoo dolls, tarot cards, and decor skulls; August was more and more aware of their presence with every second.

He tried to focus on something else as he absentmindedly twisted the fidget ring on his middle finger and wondered how much of a fire hazard the large, open flame wax candles that dripped onto the wooden floor were.

“That will be twenty dollars.”

“What?” August said as his attention snapped back to the desk, he didn’t even notice her return.

“For the tea,” Hazel stated and slightly raised the paper bag in her hand. “That will be twenty dollars.”

He shook his head, “Of course.”

What kind of tea cost that much?

Hazel pressed a few buttons on the antique cash register and took his bill.

“This isn’t your type of shop, is it?” She asked politely, although it sounded more like a statement.

August didn’t respond.

“Religious?” She questioned again.

“Catholic,” he said plainly.

She merely nodded and placed the bag in front of him. “Fair enough, witchcraft isn’t everyone's cup of tea,” Hazel said with a slight laugh at her own joke.

“I prefer real things.”

Hazel’s expression turned to mild annoyance as her eyes gazed across the shelves; as if she were wondering which of their many products she’d like to use on him for his comment.

“It is real, if anything your beliefs should confirm that,” She said plainly, her arms crossed.

August rolled his eyes. Part of him wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible. Another wanted to prove her wrong.

“Please, anyone with common sense knows that all this is,” he said with a gesture to everything around him. “Is nothing but mislabeled herbalism and creepy decor. There’s no way that it’s possible to curse people with dolls or see the future with a deck of cards. There’s no proof for any of it.”

Hazel leaned over to a box on the floor and pulled out one of the many circular jars as he continued his rant. She uncorked the lid and held a finger up for silence as she took a sip.

“What are you-”

His sentence was cut off as the boy jumped away from the desk, green flames blown in his direction. There wasn’t any sign of the fire on any of the wooden objects around them but August could have sworn he felt the heat.

Hazel calmly put the top back on the glass container and returned it to the box. “Care to explain how that wasn’t real,” she said in a sweet voice that dripped with sarcasm.

August grabbed his sister’s tea and left the shop without another word. He locked the car doors and grabbed the rosary from the rearview mirror the second he was inside.

He would never go to the shop again.

* * *

“Did you get it?” His sister asked the second he stepped foot in the house.

August tossed the paper bag on the table. “I did and don’t ever ask me to go there again.”

Sarah chuckled at his response.

“I’m serious, how did you even find that place?”

“Mrs. Anderson shops there because it’s all natural and the essential oils are on the cheaper side. I tried the tea at their house, and she told me where to buy it,” she said simply as she stirred whatever was cooking on the stove.

“I’m sure you could find something cheaper online,” August said plainly. He never wanted to be asked to pick something up for her anytime soon.

Thankfully the rest of his night was uneventful. Their mother came home from work at the usual time and some movie that was recently released on DVD played on the TV while they ate. Just what August needed to get that Witch out of his mind once and for all.

However by morning no matter how hard he tried to ignore it he couldn’t forget the eerie feeling the Charmed Lotus gave him. The witchcraft they openly sold and the lack of people, other than him and that girl, in the whole shop was off putting. The Catholic was glad that it appeared as if they had very few customers; however shops were supposed to be busy, not dead.

August sat in his parked car, every fiber of his being wanted to turn the key and leave, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. The boy accepted defeat as he unbuckled and entered the building. One stop, just to get it over with.

Hazel once again sat behind the large wooden desk, the only visible worker in the shop. She smiled as she conversed with an older woman dressed in all black, but they quickly wandered off to another part of the shop.

August’s legs moved on their own as he approached the register.

“Ah, if it isn’t the HevBe. Anything I can help you find today?” She greeted him sarcastically.

“What have you done to me?” He demanded.

She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the counter. “Am I supposed to know what you mean by that?”

August struggled to keep his mind straight, his thoughts had been all over the place ever since he first entered the shop.

“Did you spell me? Slip me one of those love potions or something?”

Hazel couldn’t help but laugh, “please, even witches know those are nothing but scams.”

“You have them on your shelves,” he countered.

She shrugged, “have to sell something to the tourists.”

August froze, what if he had it all wrong? What if the shop simply was a joke, nothing but a scam because they knew they could make money off of it.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what’s cursing you,” she said, her fingers messing with the wand where it laid.

“You do?”

She hummed in response. “Curiosity. You’re intrigued by what I do, but you’re too convinced that it’s wrong.”

August opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong, but she kept speaking as she stood up from her seat.

“Lucky for you, you came at the end of my shift. I’m free to answer all your questions.”

He blinked at the girl in disbelief; was she serious?

Hazel walked around the shop and blew out all the open flames, readjusted some shelves here and there. “There’s a nice park nearby we could go to, otherwise we can stay here.”

As much as he hated the idea of going anywhere with her, the thought of staying at the Charmed Lotus after hours was even worse.

“The park’s fine,” he answered.

“Perfect.” Hazel threw her wand in a small wicker basket and put on the sunflower coated witch hat. “Let’s go.”

“You can’t be serious.”

It was one thing to call yourself a witch, but to wear the hat as well?

“You’re the one who wants answers,” she countered.

Hazel flicked the lights off and locked the door on their way out. August mentally questioned the store hours; why would they close at 3:00PM and open again from 9:00PM - 2:00AM.

“Have to make sure we have availability for the morning and night witches,” she answered as if she could read his mind. “It’s a common question,” she added.

The park was a couple of blocks away and not much conversation was made on the way there; none that he could focus on anyway. He felt like all the attention was on the two of them and prayed they didn’t run into someone he knew. The last thing he needed was to be seen with a witch.

A few kids came up and greeted Hazel as they approached the playground. She smiled and handed all of them picked flowers or stuck the stems in their hair, every now and then she would whisper something that made them laugh. Some showed off their new clothes or how well they were able to cartwheel for a few minutes until the kids got bored and went back to their games on the playset.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she brushed the dirt off her skirt from where she was kneeling.

“Don’t be.” He didn’t expect her to be so good with children.

They walked a bit farther on the beaten path until they reached a less crowded area of the park.

“So, what’s your first question?” Hazel asked to break the silence.

August thought he’d start off easy, “what was in that bottle yesterday?” He could still vividly picture the green flames she blew in his direction and the heat that followed.

She smiled and shook her head, “I don’t think you’ll like my answer,” she joked. “Have any ideas?”

He shrugged, “dyed alcohol and a hidden lighter?” It was the only thing that might make sense.

Hazel shook her head again.

“What was it?”

“A fire-breathing potion. If you get on my good side, I might let you try it.”

He should have suspected an answer like that. He was speaking to a witch after all.

Hazel sat down and gestured for him to do the same. He hesitated but eventually joined her in the grass. She placed the small basket in front of them and started to pick the flowers that covered sections of the field. August picked at the plants as well, unsure of what else to do.

“How did you become a witch?” A simple, serious question that would put a stop to his curiosity.

“I made a deal with the devil and signed my soul away at thirteen,” she answered, her focus still on the flowers.

No matter what assumptions he made, that was the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. More flames would have surprised him less.

“Would you prefer I say that I was born into it? The Savaunt’s are one of the few witch families in the area.”

“Your entire family practices witchcraft?” He questioned in disbelief.

Hazel nodded, “everyone in the bloodline. It’s no different than families who share the same religion.”

It was one thing for the girl who had to have been in her early twenties to try and practice magic, perhaps a little too into fantasy and dissatisfied with reality. But everyone else she was related to, through how many generations? He never thought the Charmed Lotus would be a family business.

“So they were all fully aware that God exists and chose to follow Satan instead?”

She nodded once more, “yep.”

How could people know full well they were going to Hell and just pass that on to their children? This family might as well be part of a cult.

Hazel picked up a dandelion from the mix of colored petals. “Look at it this way; should this go in the basket?”

“What?”

“I’ve been picking flowers, should I pick dandelions as well?”

August stared at her, unsure of what her point was. “If you’re fine with taking home some weeds, go for it.”

She added the weed to the top of her pile. “Taraxacum are full of vital micronutrients, help strengthen the immune system, and can even be used to get clearer skin.” Hazel picked another one and held it up, “yet all most people see are ‘weeds’ that should be removed from their lawn.”

August grabbed the plant from her. He had heard dandelions carried health benefits but he never thought much of it since they were the cause of his sister’s allergies.

“How come the one who can see the beauty and resources in God’s creation is the one that follows the devil?” She questioned.

He didn’t have an answer.

August tossed any flowers he held in the basket as he moved to get up. “I should get going.”

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” She asked. “We can discuss something else, if you’d like.”

He hesitated but slowly sat back down. “What did you have in mind?”

Hazel shrugged; her fingers no longer picked dandelions for her to save but started to weave them together. “How about family? I know you have a sister since you picked up her tea; any other siblings?”

He shook his head as he thought back to Sarah, the only reason he had met the witch in the first place. Because she wanted herbal tea and didn’t like the stuff online.

“Just her and our mom.”

“And your dad?” She questioned.

“Deceased,” August answered as he nervously rubbed his arm; it had only been a few years since his passing. “What about you?”

“Technically an only child, my brother died before I was born, and my parents own the shop.”

The two continued to talk about random things like where they grew up; August’s family moved here a few years ago and currently stayed with them while he was home from college, Hazel had never left the area. Favorite colors, hobbies, and other stuff like that. As much as August wanted to deny it, he enjoyed talking to the redheaded girl who wore her witch hat with pride.

Hazel tied off her chain of weeds and placed the flower crown on his head with a grin before he could refuse. “It looks nice in your hair, really sticks out against the brown.”

August couldn’t help but chuckle; maybe he started to enjoy spending time with the girl.

They stayed in the park until the sun began to set; August walked her back to the shop and where his car happened to be parked. The two of them exchanged numbers before he got in the vehicle.

“In case you have any more questions,” Hazel smiled.

He did the same, a genuine smile.

She disappeared behind the closed door of the Charmed Lotus, and he was left with his thoughts on the short drive home. Maybe he was wrong about the young witch.

His sister greeted him the second he walked through the door. “Where have you been?”

He set his keys in the dish with a quick glance around the room, their mom seemed to be at work still. “I was out with a friend.”

Sarah nodded, her eyes glued to her phone. “So, a date?”

“What?” It wasn’t a date, far from it, but why did she think that?

She tilted her device down as she gave her explanation. “You didn’t give a name, so it must be someone new but you also didn’t say that,” she went back to scrolling. “So what’s her name?”

“It wasn’t a date,” August insisted.

“His name?”

“Sarah!”

“I just want to know who my brother’s seeing, what’s wrong with that?”

He rolled his eyes. He knew she wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon and the last thing he needed was her spreading rumors to their mom.

“Hazel, but it still wasn’t a date.”

“Last name?”

August gave her a questioning look, why did she need to know that? “Savaunt.”

She was quiet for a few seconds. “The witch?”

He stared at her in disbelief, “how could you possibly know that?”

“Her social media.” Sarah tilted the phone so he could see the open page. Sure enough the profile picture was of Hazel, sunflower covered hat and all. Her bio was mainly an advertisement for the shop with a few emojis and the hashtag ‘#YourFriendlyNeighborhoodWitch’.

“She’s the last person I expected you to hang out with,” Sarah said, but there wasn’t any judgment in her voice.

“How did you even find this, it only took you like five seconds,” August asked.

She looked at him as if to say ‘are you serious?’. “I’m a woman, I can find anyone online.”

He didn’t ask anymore questions and just accepted the answer she gave him, however ridiculous it sounded.

* * *

Over the next couple weeks, a majority of August’s time was spent with Hazel. From texting practically all day, to even a few official dates (she asked him out first). The Charmed Lotus no longer made his skin crawl whenever he was there but slowly started to feel more like a second home to him.

Neither of them had met any family members, but he didn’t mind, there was no rush. August did tell his mom about her, however he thought it would be best to leave out the witch part for now.

The bell rang as he entered the shop and August smiled at the familiar faint creak of the floorboards. He waved hello to Miss Jeanette, who popped in every few days to buy potions for her memory.

He looked around the shop, but he didn’t see Hazel behind the desk or hidden among the shelves. He glanced over at the staff door and its sign that read ‘knock for service’ instead of ‘do not enter’. With a quick knock August turned the handle to the room he had recently been allowed access to.

Hazel sat on the floor in front of a large cauldron as she poured the translucent liquid into glass bottles. Her witch hat was crooked, and he noticed the small break she took in between each jar.

“Are you tired?” August questioned as he sat down next to her.

She nodded, “I've been up all night brewing for tomorrow’s restock, I still have two potions left to make,” Hazel yawned.

He looked down at her wavy hair, streaks of black mixed into the auburn locks. Something that happened when she used too much of her magic; part of the contract and the reason most witches were depicted with pitch black hair.

“You should take a break.”

She merely laughed as she boxed up the now finished potions. “I’m almost done.”

“You’re exhausted,” he countered.

Hazel labeled the box and stacked it amongst the others but shook her head. “I’ll be done in an hour or two anyway.”

August glanced at the potion book on the floor, the last recipes tagged with half of a green sticky note.

“What if I made them?” He suggested, “it can’t be too far from cooking.”

She smiled, “I appreciate the offer, Love, but HevBes can’t make potions.”

August tilted his head at the nickname, something that had started as some sort of insult and slowly transformed to a pet name she occasionally used but never gave an explanation for.

“HevBe?”

Hazel turned from where she gathered ingredients for the next recipe and leaned against the shelves, glass bottles in hand. “It means Heaven Bound, a term used for those with a saved soul,” she informed.

August was a bit relieved to hear that. Even though he still went to mass on Sunday and prayed every day, he had started to worry about how much time he spent at the shop and how he didn’t want to admit he had fallen for the witch. No one could say for one hundred percent certain where he would spend his afterlife, but perhaps someone without a soul could know a bit more than him.

“If you’d like to help you could read off what I need?” She suggested.

August nodded and opened the book to the first tab. “Eye of newt?” He read uncertainly once she had confirmed the potion name.

Hazel held up a small bottle with a laugh, “Mustard seed. Spell books were written with false names in case anyone got their hands on them.”

He nodded once again; that made sense, and he was sure he had read something similar online. “Wool of bat?”

“Holly leaves.”

“Toe of frog?”

“Buttercup.”

August continued to read of the odd sounding names that definitely added to all the stereotypes in fictional magic, however there wasn’t anything fictional about this. He watched as Hazel threw ingredients into the boiling water of the newly cleaned caldron as he read out the steps; even if she did seem to act a few seconds before he started the sentence. He got to help be a part of creating something that did help people, even if it wasn’t the traditional ways one would expect. It felt good and he wanted to continue.

It may have only felt like a few seconds but the potion had finished brewing by the time he had voiced his thoughts. “I wanted to practice witchcraft.”

Hazel dropped the metal spoon she was using to stir at his words, too surprised that they had come out of his mouth. “What?”

August took a deep breath and pushed aside the tiny speck of doubt. “I want to help you, actually help you with things around the shop. I want to do what you do.”

She inched over to him from where they sat on the ground and placed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “No.”

“No?” He had thought she would be thrilled.

Hazel stood and brushed the nonexistent dust off of her clothes. “You’re not thinking clearly. I refuse to be the reason your soul is doomed for all eternity.”

“But it’s my choice,” he countered.

She shook her head. “We both know you would never willingly sign the contract.”

Hazel held open the door to the storefront and August left without another word.

* * *

They didn’t speak for a few days, and both of them realized they needed to take a step back.

They texted every now and then, but it was nothing more than sending memes back and forth. She did ask him one day what animal he’d want to be if he could choose, and some other random get to know yous. Hazel seemed pleased when he said a cat or bird, but he might have been playing into the witch aspect a little bit with his response; not that he really had an answer anyway. After that they slowly made it back to their normal conversations.

A week later he decided it was time to go visit her at the shop; he wanted to see Hazel in person and was honestly starting to miss being at the Charmed Lotus with her.

The bell rang as he pushed the door open and August smiled at the familiar sound. He really did feel at home here; the previous chill of unease was long gone. His feet quickly brought him to the corner of the building where his girlfriend sat behind the wooden desk, a large spell book in front of her.

Hazel looked up and smiled at him, “hi, Love.”

He leaned over the counter to kiss her head before moving to sit next to her. “What are you reading?” He asked.

She messed with her wand. “One of the family books…I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“About learning magic?”

She nodded. “I don’t want you to sign a contract- I’ll do everything I can to keep you from doing that.” She took a deep breath, “but I think I found an alternative.”

August looked up, his attention fully fixed on her. Was there really a way for him to learn without selling his soul? “What is it?”

Hazel pointed to the page she was reading; although he did his best to read it, most of the words scrambled around the page whenever his eyes reached them. Magically protected from non-witches.

“If you become my familiar, I can share my magic with you and you’ll still be a HevBe,” she explained, her voice a bit quieter than usual.

He didn’t hesitate, “let’s do it.”

She looked a bit uncertain. “Are you sure? Once we do this, there’s no turning back. Your family might not accept you anymore.”

August didn’t care, he honestly didn’t. “Positive.”

Her eyes scanned over him as if they were searching for any sign of doubt but there was nothing to find. She picked up the book, “All right. Let’s get started.”

The shop sign flipped to ‘close’ with a wave of her wand and they disappeared into the back room. She grabbed jar after jar, handing them back for him to hold; he didn’t recognize any of them.

Once everything had been found, she drew two connecting circles filled with sigils on the wooden floor in chalk and instructed him to sit. It would be a long spell but there wasn’t much he could do besides wait.

Hazel placed a cauldron between them and sat down in her own circle. It filled water as she threw ingredients in, Latin words falling from her lips. August starred entranced as the chalk started to glow. By the time she handed him a glass, he didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours, but he knew he could watch this all day.

“Are you certain this is what you want?” She asked, her hair slowly turning black.

He nodded and took the glass. He wanted to be a part of this. He wanted to help her. He loved her.

The room glowed a violent red as he took a sip, and his head started to pound. She took the glass before he could drop it and set it down; still reciting the spell as if it were second nature. His entire body ached, his vision flashed in and out. The entire room seemed to grow as he screamed in pain. He wasn’t sure if he would pass out. But soon everything died down and his screams were nothing more than weak cheeps in their ears.

August Lucado no longer sat in the spell circle, instead a small sparrow took his place.

Hazel picked him up and rose to her feet; there was barely any red left in her hair. She placed her forehead against the bird as tears rolled down her cheek.

“I told you I would do anything I could to keep you saved- I couldn’t risk you making a contract on your own.”

August’s mind screamed at him as he tried to fly out of her grasp but she held him close. He should have thought about this or asked her to explain- Hazel should have told him this is what would happen. But it seemed so obvious now; witch’s familiars were always animals. He should have known. He should have questioned.

But he was so charmed by this world, learning about everything he was too scared to discover. And this girl that he had fallen for, all because his sister whom he would never see again wanted some tea, gave him an option that he stupidly accepted. He was now trapped as a bird.

“I’m so sorry, Love…”

He had fallen in love with Hazel Savaunt, and this was the price of loving her.

I live in a world where everyone has a soulmate.

That used to mean the person you were going to marry, even if you didn’t love them. Now we accept that they’re merely just your ‘other half’. Your soulmate could be your spouse, your best friend, a one-night stand, or someone you’ll never see again; they could even be your sibling.

A majority of the world understands that not everyone is going to end up with their soulmate, the two may be connected but that doesn’t mean their lives are tied together.

I was never that interested in following the compass on my wrist, I’m aro/ace so I knew I would never be in a relationship with them and it didn’t really matter if I became friends with them. My family found it interesting how the girl named after the most romantic flower, didn’t experience romantic attraction herself.

There are people whose only goal in life was to find the person fate was pointing them to, who would travel across the world if it meant they might find them. I wasn’t one of those people, but unfortunately, my soulmate was.

work as a barista in a café a few miles from where I grew up. Most of the shifts are pretty copy/paste. You have the regulars who always order the same thing at practically the same time every day, the people who insist you messed up their order and wish to speak with the manager, the ones who want to try everything on the menu, and that one person who claims a free drink with their punch card that you know they punched out at home.

It’s not always in that order but it’s practically guaranteed that one, if not all of them will show up during your shift. We also have our fair share of coffee dates or students coming in to study, but those are hardly as memorable.

I was behind the register taking orders when the door opened; I didn’t look up as the bell was hardly anything new.

A man came up to the counter, a big grin on his face. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” It wasn’t the first time a customer had offered to buy us something from the café, most of the time it was because of the holidays or their way of paying it forward. This man was something else, I had never seen someone this excited to place an order, let alone one that wasn’t even for him.

“A drink, I figured I should get you something before I ask you on a date.”

He held up his left arm when I gave him a confused look. His compass was red and pointed at me, sure enough when I looked down my own was no longer black and turned towards him.

This man was my soulmate.

I had gone over in my head multiple times what I would say when I ended up meeting them, however my speech would have to wait as a small line started to form behind him.

“Look, my shift ends in half an hour. If you want we can talk after that,” I said.

He nodded, “sounds great,” a grin still plastered on his face.

I asked him if he wanted anything for himself since he was at the register and punched in his cortado.

“Can I get a name for the order?”

“Chase Frederick.”

I didn’t need his last name but I didn’t comment on it. “That will be out shortly.”

I couldn’t help but notice how he picked the seat that was the closest to the counter. I had a feeling he wouldn’t like being “just friends” but there was nothing I could do about that.

The next thirty minutes passed by painfully slow, my soulmate seated a few feet away as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally glancing in my direction. My coworker Sarah tapped on my shoulder and I moved aside so she could take over the register. I was now free to clock out and have whatever uncomfortable conversation awaited me.

My purse over my shoulder I made my way over to Chase.

“Hey soulmate,” he greeted.

I sighed, this wouldn’t be an easy conversation. “It’s Rose.”

I don’t know why I introduced myself, I had had a nametag on and I knew he read it. Perhaps I was stalling.

I took a seat across from him, “look Chase, we may be soulmates but there will never be a romantic relationship between us.”

It was blunter than I had prepared but those were the words that ended up coming out.

“I’m sure you’re great and it would be wonderful if we could be friends. But I’m aromantic, I’ll never have type feelings towards you or anyone else that matter,” I added.

I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I expected; denial, maybe yelling, but not the one I got.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I didn’t think it would be that easy.

“But can I ask you one thing?” He said.

“Sure,” I said, I no longer knew where this conversation was headed.

“Can I still take you out on a date? I know you said you don’t get those types of feelings but I figure I should still try.” He gave a nervous chuckle and I noticed how he kept turning his phone on the table.

I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm in one date, he did know this wouldn’t lead anywhere after all. “Why not.”

We agreed on tomorrow night and exchanged numbers. He waved as he walked out the door, the big smile back on his face.

I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into.

* * *

“So you finally met them?” asked my cousin Tyler.

I nodded as I hung my coat back in the closet. I wasn’t surprised that he had followed me to my room when I told him; Tyler now laid on my bed with his feet against the wall.

“We’re getting dinner tomorrow night.”

I now had his full attention. “You’re going on a date with him?”

“I guess, technically. He knows I’m aro,” I said.

“You’re going on a date. It doesn’t matter if you have a blinking sign, people are oblivious.”

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see, my back towards him as I grabbed my pajamas. “Well if Chase hasn’t gotten it through his head now, he will by the end of the night.”

Tyler shrugged as much as he could while laying down. “If you say so, let me know if you need me to fake an emergency tomorrow.”

“Thanks but that won’t be necessary.” At least I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be.

I kicked Tyler out of my room as I left to take a shower and he offered to pick out a movie for us to watch.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right, did my soulmate really think he'd be able to win me over? I already knew that wouldn’t happen. It never would, let alone over one dinner. But some people refuse to understand that, especially when it comes to soulmates. I prayed Chase wasn’t the same way.

* * *

We had agreed to meet at the local Italian restaurant, already a bit fancier than I hoped. The destination alone made it feel more like a romantic date than two friends getting together. Tyler helped me pick out an outfit, a nice shirt, and a skirt; he said I didn’t have to completely dress up but he lovingly refused to let me leave the apartment in jeans.

I couldn’t help but stare at my wrist while I waited for Chase to arrive, my leg bouncing on the sidewalk from nerves. I still wasn’t used to the red, the arrow slightly moved from side to side. The mark that let everyone know I had met my “other half”; depending on how tonight goes I might get it covered up. There were no rules against getting tattoos over your compass, it was just generally frowned upon. Most people were proud of theirs, some were not.

Chase waved once he came into view and I stood up from the bench to greet him. He wore a fancy dress shirt and nice black pants, thankfully nothing over the top.

“Shall we head in?” I asked.

“We shall.”

It didn’t take too long to get seated, I tried not to immediately look at my menu. I was too antisocial for whatever this “date” was. “Any topics you’d like to discuss?” I said after a minute or two of awkward silence.

“I brought an icebreaker if you'd like to do that,” Chase suggested.

“Sounds great.”

He pulled a set of notecards out of his pocket, one stack in front of me, one in front of him. He flipped over the first card, a small “1” in the corner, and read the question.

Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?

I never thought of that before, there were plenty of famous people I would love to meet but for a whole dinner? I wasn’t sure.

I told him my favorite author and he said the president.

Chase gestured for me to flip over the first of my pile. A “2” in the corner of this card; looks like I had the even numbers.

“Would you like to be famous? In what way?” I read.

Chase said he wasn’t sure, he had no desire to be at the moment but wanted it to be for helping people if he ever did become famous. I thought being a well-known artist would be nice.

“What kind of art do you like to do?” He asked; this wasn’t one of the notecards.

“Digital, but it’s more of a hobby.” I pulled up my social media when he asked if he could see something. I averaged about a hundred likes per picture, which certainly wasn’t horrible, it was more than I ever thought I would get, but it was far from famous.

“These are amazing,” Chase said as he scrolled through my page, he left a like on every image he saw.

“Thanks,” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Even if the feedback was mostly positive I was always self-conscious when I showed others my work. “Should we continue our icebreaker?”

Another card flipped over. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

I said it depended on who I was calling: if it was important or work, yes. If it was family or friends I rarely did. He said no.

“How many questions are there?”

“Thirty-six,” Chase answered.

I nodded, I knew what he was doing. The thirty-six questions to fall in love. I had heard the first few but never the whole list, I didn’t see the point. You couldn’t make people love each other with a few questions, or maybe you could, I wouldn’t know. I just knew they wouldn’t work on me.

didn’t say anything about it, I did like the already chosen topics. The waitress stopped by to get our drink orders and I waited to flip over the next card till she was gone.

What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?

We looked over our menus while we thought about that one, our server would be back soon anyway and as someone who’s worked at a restaurant, I always hated when people took forever to decide what they wanted. Chase got the seafood fettuccine alfredo, I chose the chicken pasta in white wine sauce.

“So what would be your perfect day?” I asked as I leaned against my elbow.

“I think that would be a nice morning run, followed by a cup of coffee, lunch with my family at my grandparent’s diner, and game night with my friends in the evening.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they want to start their day with exercise, especially when describing the perfect day,” I laughed.

“What about you?”

“Let’s see, that would include sleeping in for once, the day off of work. I think I would spend the day at the beach with a good book, and end it with a movie with my cousin Tyler.”

Ever since Tyler and I moved in together movie night, practically every night became a sort of tradition.

“What do you consider a ‘good book’?” He asked, which wasn’t one of the icebreaker questions.

“Mystery, a modern Sherlock Holmes perhaps,” I said with a smirk.

He smiled, “I always loved the original stories.”

Chase looked down at the table when he realized he had been staring, “question five: when did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?”

He started to turn his phone on the table like he did at the café; picking it up onto its side and setting it back down over and over again. Maybe it was something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable, maybe it was just a fidget. I always played with the spinny ring on my right hand.

“By myself would be the car ride over here, I love singing along to the radio. To someone else that would be with my coworker a few days ago before opening.”

Sarah was so excited to show me the latest musical she had found and they were always catchy.

“I also sang to myself today and to someone else that would be at an open mic yesterday,” he explained.

“You should let me know when the next one is, I’d love to hear you sing sometime.”

Our waitress came back with our food and politely let us know that the plates were hot as she set them down.

“If you want I could sing now,” he joked.

I merely laughed and took a bite of food. Thankfully he did so as well so we wouldn’t have the entire restaurant’s gaze on us. It doesn't matter how good your voice is, people don’t start singing in the middle of dinner unless they’re paid to.

We set the notecards aside, and both of us agreed to continue the little icebreaker later. Even if they wouldn’t make me fall in love, I did enjoy the questions. They were deeper than the standard get to know yous but not so personal that I didn’t want to answer.

Over the meal, I learned the basic facts about my soulmate. Chase was twenty-four, two years older than me. He was an apprentice at an electrical company and was taking music lessons from someone he found online. He lived with his best friend and was a Gemini.

I shared the same things about myself if I hadn’t already mentioned it: twenty-two, barista, taking graphic design classes, living with my cousin, and Libra.

We liked most of the same things. Same taste in food, and music, we both even preferred TV shows over movies; movies were something I only watched with Tyler.

Chase was easy to like, he was charismatic and awkward, and kind. He was someone I wanted in my life, to learn hobbies with, or even have over for movie night. But as a friend, it would only ever be as a friend.

The bill came and I insisted that either I paid for all of it or we each paid for our meal; we split the check. Chase was the perfect gentleman and opened the door for me, he didn’t ask about a second date but technically the night wasn’t over.

We walked down a few blocks to a park, we did need to finish those icebreakers after all.

Barely anyone was around as the sun was about to set. I sat down on a swing, my legs slightly pushing me as I rocked back and forth but not enough for them to leave the ground. Chase handed me my stack and followed suit.

It was my turn to read a card, “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

We both agreed on body. While the idea of slowly losing your mind and memories was terrifying, not being able to do anything by yourself for who knows how many years was worse.

“Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?” He asked. “I think I’ll die in a car crash, it’s common enough.”

“I have a feeling I’ll drown in the ocean,” I answered.

“That’s morbid, I’m surprised you still consider going to the beach a part of your perfect day.”

“I’m surprised you still get in a car,” I countered.

Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.

We both liked the color blue, we both preferred underrated characters, and we both liked to sing.

We both never planned to go to college, we both loved animals, and we both had horrible sleep schedules.

For what in your life do you feel most grateful?

I said family, he said life in general, being alive.

If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

Chase said he wished he were raised in a Christian household; the difference in religions was a bit of a sore spot in his family. I told him my parents should have gotten divorced sooner, they failed at hiding their constant fights throughout my childhood, they thought they were doing the right thing. But if we had those little changes we might be completely different people today.

Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.

Chase took out his phone and set a timer, I thought for a moment before I hit start.

When I was little, around eight years old, we went to a family camp a few hours away from here. We got a few hours of free time and we tended to separate from each other as we did our own “age-appropriate” activities. I had managed to disappear from all the staff members and when I didn’t show up for lunch they eventually found me taking a nap in the woods with a baby bunny in my lap. I named him Timmy.

We laughed and joked about the fact that surprisingly they wouldn’t let me take him home.

I reset the timer for Chase. He shared a story from his freshman year in high school. He and his friends had volunteered to run a haunted house for Halloween and they wanted to make it as scary as possible. They had the standard things like vampires, jump scares, and gory props but they wanted to have something more; for the experience to end with a bang. His current roommate suggested adding some small firecrackers, whatever they could get that was legal. They ended up setting off the fire alarm and got suspended for a week.

“At least I didn’t try to burn down my school,” I teased.

“It was an accident,” he laughed.

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

We both went the supernatural route, he chose the power of flight and I said the ability to shapeshift.

I placed the card I had just read at the back of the pile, from what I remembered about the thirty-six questions there were three “parts”, and we were now a third through the questions. I wanted to keep going, I liked getting to know him, but I didn’t want to give Chase the wrong idea. Was Tyler right? Did he think he had a chance at a romantic relationship even though I told him when we first met that I was aromantic? Did he get false hope with every answer I gave?

He read the next card: If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?

“How I would die, see if my hunch was right.” Chase jokingly shook his head at my response. “What about you?” I asked.

“I’d want to know who I’d end up with.”

I sighed, “Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?”

If he didn’t want to speak to me after tonight, which was understandable, I wanted to enjoy being his friend as long as I could and prayed that I wouldn’t lead him on.

We both said we wanted to try skydiving but made no effort to actually do it.

“Maybe that can be the next thing we do together,” he said with a smile. At least he didn’t say date.

What is the greatest accomplishment in your life?

Mine was when I won an art contest a year or two ago; his was being the person he wanted to be. Chase explained how he used to put everyone else’s needs and wants before his, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but what he did wasn’t healthy. It took him a few years to finally work on his mental health.

I smiled. I knew that wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but we both knew now wasn’t the right time for that deep of a conversation. We continued, answering a little quicker as it got late.

What do you value most in a friendship?

We both said loyalty and trust.

What is your most treasured memory?

Mine was some Christmas from when I was little, there was nothing special about it but it was something I loved to think back on. All of us were in matching pajamas while we sat around the tree with a pile of presents. Some holiday movie on in the background and gingerbread cookies in the oven, they tasted like cardboard but we still ate the whole batch.

Chase said his was when his adoptive sister Kathrin asked him to be her son's godfather. His nephew/godson Jonny was three years old.

What is your most terrible memory?

That one got brushed over with vague answers. It didn’t matter if we were supposed to honestly answer them all, “icebreaker” or not, we weren’t ready to discuss that one yet.

If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?

I said I would do all the things I was afraid to do; I would quit my job and live off my savings, and make the most of my borrowed time. He told me something similar, how he would treat every day as if it were his last and do his best to have no regrets.

“What does friendship mean to you?” I read. We were twenty questions in, the stars now visible in the dark, slightly cloudy sky.

Chase said it was one of the things that made life worth living, I said it was everything.

We moved to the playground and sat across from each other on the plastic, hole-filled floor. I pointed out Orion and a few other constellations that were noticeable. I couldn’t help but smile when he recited the Greek myth of Orion and shared the jokes his grandpa would make about Ursa Minor.

Card number twenty-two was flipped over, Chase forgot to write down number twenty-one so we moved on. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.

“Kind,” he started.

“Funny.”

“Thoughtful.”

“Optimistic.”

“Artistic.”

“Friendly,” I said with a smile.

“Intelligent,” he replied.

“Considerate.”

“Likable.”

“Adventurous,” I finished.

Chase grinned and flipped over the next question: How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?

Despite my mom and dad slightly hating each other, they were good parents. Minus their fights I think I had a good, happy childhood.

Chase said his family was very close, he and all of his siblings were adopted. He said he wouldn’t change that for the world.

How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?

We both said that we could be closer but it was good.

Number twenty-four answered, we were now in the third set of questions. They were more detailed: Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling…”, Complete this sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share …”.

They also got more personal, number twenty-seven: If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.

I re-shared that I was aro/ace, a part of me was nervous that he would want to end the night there. He merely smiled and shared that his job didn’t give him a lot of free time. I hoped that was a good sign.

Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.

I liked how sweet and carefree he was. From our rushed and unexpected meeting to this moment he had shown me nothing but kindness. Even when I could tell he wasn’t sure what to say it was never uncomfortable. I told him I really hoped we could be close friends after this.

He liked that I was real, that I was kind and honest. That I didn’t push him away from the start, that I gave him a chance. He said he also hoped we could be close friends.

The next one was more lighthearted: Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life. We shared silly school stories and laughed at each other's humiliating stories.

I read number thirty which was similar to one we already had: When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself? Neither of us remembered when that was, each I suppose is a good thing as that means we haven’t cried recently.

Someone came by and asked if we could leave the park, it was already 11:00 PM so this area was technically closed. We apologized and quickly left. Chase read the next card as we walked to our cars. Tell your partner something that you like about them already.

“Didn’t we just answer that a few questions ago?” I asked.

“I think we did,” he laughed and gestured for me to flip over number thirty-two.

What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?

We both agreed on suicide and other similar topics.

If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?

I wasn’t sure, I’d like to think that I tell people everything important. Chase said we can circle back to that one as he also wasn’t sure.

Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?

“Probably a box of things I consider irreplaceable, you?”

“My computer,” I answered.

“Your computer?” He said with a small laugh.

“Hey, I paid a lot for that thing.”

Our vehicles were in sight and we had two questions left, this would be the end of our late night.

Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

“My cousin Tyler, I’ve known him my whole life and live with him. I don’t want to think about him dying anytime soon.”

Chase nodded and said his father; he had been there for him for as long as he could remember, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him.

I flipped over my last notecard, the last of these thirty-six “icebreaker” questions.

Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you on how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.

Maybe it was because we wanted something to come back to, maybe it was because we didn’t want to ask the other for help. Whatever the reason was, we didn’t answer the last of the questions to fall in love.

Chase kissed my cheek and wished me good night. I smiled and waved farewell as I got in my car. That was the end of our “date”.

* * *

I didn’t hear from Chase the next day or the day after that. It hurt but I wasn’t sure if I should say something; if he didn’t want to be friends I didn’t want to push it. Tyler said there was no harm in sending a simple “hello” but I felt like if I sent something I should say more. I wasn’t sure why but that’s how I felt.

I was near the end of my shift at the café, Sarah was in the back making the drinks while I punched them in as normal. The bell rang; I didn’t look up from my task, the bell rings all the time.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

Chase stood on the other side of the counter, “A cortado and a conversation if you’re free,” he said with a shy smile.

I typed it in. “I get off in fifteen,” so similar to the day we met.

He paid for his drink and sat down at the same spot as before. I didn’t know what to expect from this conversation but I tried to stay hopeful.

“Rose,” Sarah said as she tapped my shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Is that your soulmate?” She asked with a small gesture towards Chase.

I nodded and took the next person's order.

It was time to clock out when she spoke again. “I don’t mean to pry, but is he also aro?”

I hung my apron up with a sigh, “no.” I didn’t see her reaction and made my way over to Chase. “Can I sit here?”

“Of course.”

I took the seat across from him. “I’m sorry I didn’t message you,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

He shook his head, “it took me too long to accept that I wouldn’t marry my soulmate, you told me from the start that wouldn’t happen.”

I looked away, so that is why he didn’t reach out; because I would never love him that way. Chase continued to speak, “I thought maybe it would be different since I was your soulmate, I was even foolish enough to try those ‘scientifically proven’ questions to fall in love.”

“I knew what they were from the start,” I said. He seemed surprised by my answer. “I’m sorry if I lead you on by wanting to continue the questions, but I liked getting to know you and I didn’t want that to stop.”

There was a moment of silence, a moment too long in my opinion.

“Friends?” He asked.

I smiled, “I would like that.” Part of me couldn’t help but feel relieved. My soulmate and I were on the same page, we were honest with each other, we were friends.

I got a drink of my own and we stayed at the café; we conversed and laughed. Sort of like part two of last night, but this wasn’t a date. There were no questions to fall in love, there was no lying about who we were to get the other to like us. Just two friends hanging out. It was wonderful.

“You know, if you want to be in a relationship I know someone I could set you up with,” I offered.

“Really, who?”

I smiled and gestured towards the counter, my coworker Sarah at the register.

“What about her soulmate?” Chase asked, her red compass visible from here with her short sleeves.

“He has a boyfriend so there shouldn’t be any problems there,” I answered.

I had a feeling they would get along, and the two of them looked like they would be a cute couple.

We continued our conversation while Chase debated if he should go talk to her, which I eventually convinced him to. And I was right, the two of them hit it off almost immediately.

Our relationship may not have started how either of us expected but no matter what happened, I’m glad my other half is a part of my life.