Tangled In Strings

Chapter 10: Shadows Bloom

The moon was low.

Soft silver light pooled in the clearing where Moonjumper sat, scarf still wrapped snugly around his neck. He’d been watching the shadows ripple around him for a while now—watching them flicker like nervous fingers.

Snatcher hadn’t said anything since he appeared again, phasing in behind him with a murmured:

“You’re still here.”

“Of course,” Moonjumper replied. “Where else would I be?”

Snatcher hesitated.

He drifted closer.

And closer.

Until he was hovering only inches behind Moonjumper, shadows brushing the back of his neck like curious vines.

“You shouldn’t make it so easy,” Snatcher murmured, his voice low, teasing, warm.

“Easy for what?” Moonjumper asked, still calm—but his pulse had started to race.

“To fall into you.”

---

✦ The First Kiss ✦

It happened slowly.

Moonjumper turned to face him—and Snatcher’s form shifted, grew more solid, more himself. His face softened, his glow dimmed to a gentle blue. His claws trembled slightly at his sides.

“If I do this,” he said quietly, “I won’t be able to pretend anymore.”

“Then don’t pretend.”

Snatcher stared at him.

And leaned in.

Their lips met in the middle—cool and warm at once, flickering with unspent magic. It was cautious at first. Testing. Then deeper. Bolder.

Snatcher curled a hand behind Moonjumper’s head, pulling him in with surprising tenderness, like Moonjumper was made of glass and memory both. Moonjumper pressed closer, hands finding Snatcher’s arms, feeling the faint hum of power and fear beneath his shifting form.

> “You feel like moonlight,” Snatcher whispered against his lips.

“You taste like stars,” Moonjumper whispered back.

Snatcher groaned.

“Okay now you’re just trying to kill me.”

“You can’t die again.”

“Don’t tempt fate.”

---

They kissed again—longer this time.

And when they finally broke apart, Snatcher was breathing like he still had lungs. His form glitched around the edges—shadow flaring, flickering, flushed.

“We should stop,” Snatcher said.

“Do you want to?”

“No. I want to kiss you until I lose all shape.”

“Then let’s walk,” Moonjumper offered, smile soft. “Before you do.”

---

✦ The Walk ✦

They walked side by side, Snatcher floating barely off the ground, trailing faint tendrils of magic through the moss. The air was thick with mist and starlight, the swamp alive with soft sounds and tiny glowing insects.

“I haven’t felt this light in years,” Snatcher muttered.

“Because you kissed me?”

“Because I kissed you and you didn’t disappear afterward.” He glanced sideways. “That’s rare.”

Moonjumper nudged him gently.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You say that now. Wait ‘til you see the mansion.”

---

✦ Snatcher’s Mansion ✦

They reached it an hour later.

It stood half-sunken in the swamp—gothic, overgrown, windows crooked, vines tangled up its dark bones. The kind of house that looked cursed from the outside and was cursed on the inside.

“I like it,” Moonjumper said immediately.

Snatcher blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“It’s haunted and brooding. Like you.”

Snatcher coughed into his shadow. “Rude. Accurate. Please come inside.”

---

Inside, it was warmer than expected. The magic in the walls reacted to Snatcher’s presence—fireflies flared in lanterns, the dust lifted off the furniture, shadows shifted out of the way like lazy cats.

He led Moonjumper to a room with a high arched ceiling, an old velvet chaise, and a warped mirror.

“This was mine, back when I—when he—still lived here.”

Moonjumper touched the armrest. “It still feels like you.”

Snatcher stood behind him, arms folded, nervously shifting between semi-transparent and solid.

“You can rest here if you want. I don’t need sleep, but I can... stay nearby.”

Moonjumper turned.

“I want you to stay with me.”

Snatcher blinked. “Like... in the same—?”

“Yes.”

Snatcher short-circuited. “...okaybutdon’ttellanyoneI’masoftie.”

Moonjumper smiled and held out his hand.

Snatcher took it.

---

✦ End Scene ✦

They curled together on the chaise—tangled in scarf, shadow, and quiet breathless warmth. Neither spoke much.

There was no need.

The silence between them was safe now.

And somewhere, far off in Subcon, a sliver of the broken moon pulsed faintly—like it, too, was beginning to heal.