Tangled In Strings

Chapter 32: Contracts & Thoughts

Night had settled over the forest like a velvet blanket—deep, star-speckled, and heavy with stillness.

The wards were holding. For now.

Moonjumper stood on the balcony of their tree manor, leaning on the carved railing. Below, glowing ghost-orbs drifted lazily among the garden vines. The moon—still whole—hung low, silver and slow, like it, too, was holding its breath.

Snatcher joined him, barefoot, hair tousled from a long day of spellwork, carrying two cups of cocoa with ghostfire marshmallows.

“One for you,” he said, offering it with a dramatic flourish, “and one for your favorite emotionally unstable ex-wraith.”

“You spoil me.”

“I could throw you into the void instead.”

“Tempting.”

They smiled into their mugs and drank in silence.

---

✦ The Future We Don’t Talk About

It was Moonjumper who spoke first.

“Snatcher… what happens after?”

Snatcher blinked. “After?”

“After Vanessa. After we win—or survive. What then?”

The words hung between them like fog, heavy with hope and fear.

Snatcher leaned his elbows on the railing beside him, brow furrowed.

“I… I dunno. I’ve never really thought past surviving. Or cursing mailmen. Same thing, really.”

Moonjumper gave him a small, fond shove.

Snatcher turned to him more seriously.

“What are you thinking happens after?”

Moonjumper hesitated, fingers curling around his cup.

Then he exhaled, soft and real.

“I want to plant a bigger garden. A real one. Not just protective vines and moon blossoms. I want a home that isn’t always watching for shadows. I want peace.”

He looked down into his cup.

“And… I want to raise something. Someone.”

Snatcher blinked. “Someone?”

Moonjumper looked at him, steady.

“I want kids.”

---

✦ The Confession

The silence after was vast.

Not uncomfortable—just stunned.

Snatcher’s eyes were wide. “You want… like, actual small chaotic beings? Like Hat Kid but possibly more destructive?”

Moonjumper laughed gently. “Hopefully less destructive.”

“Wow. Didn’t expect that.”

“I didn’t either. Not until recently. But… I look at you, I look at this place… and I think maybe it’s not impossible. Maybe I’m allowed to want that.”

He added, quieter:

“I’d want them to feel safe. And wanted. Not like we did.”

Snatcher’s expression softened.

He reached over and took Moonjumper’s free hand.

“You’d be good at that,” he murmured. “Like, terrifyingly gentle. You already talk to plants like they’re people.”

“They are people.”

“Exactly.”

A pause.

Then, sheepishly:

“...Would they be ghost-kids or moon-kids? I need to prepare.”

“You’d be a disaster dad.”

“A fabulous disaster dad. Capes. Training montages. Possibly unlicensed potions.”

Moonjumper laughed until tears welled.

---

✦ A Glimpse

They curled up later on the couch, cocoa finished, wrapped in a shared blanket.

Moonjumper rested against Snatcher’s shoulder, and Snatcher traced soft shapes on the back of his hand.

“It’s scary,” Moonjumper murmured. “To want something like that. When we still might lose everything.”

Snatcher nodded.

“But it’s brave, too. And honestly? If it’s you—if it’s us—I think we’ve already beaten worse odds.”

A long, comfortable silence.

Then Snatcher whispered, a little embarrassed:

“I think I want it too. Not just the cursed forest and flirting through spell duels. I want the next thing. The after.”

Moonjumper leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Then we’ll make it there.”

---

✦ End Scene

Outside, the wind shifted.

Far off, deep in the woods, a rose-petal flurry blew in against the trees—a distant echo of Vanessa’s approach.

But inside, on their quiet balcony, hope bloomed.

A future imagined. A promise made.