a heart can hold a spark

On a chilling autumn's night, a blazing campfire surrounded by a group of friends is about the best she could've asked for. The last of the summer's crickets chirp in nearby bushes, and the flames from their strong fire distribute shadows on friendly faces. An accepting silence pierced by the crackling of charred wood and insects fills the air with a symphony of what nature has to offer.

A gloved hand holds her side and crouched legs on a wooden chair swing, gently swaying in the late evening breeze. Her nose is engulfed in a strong scent of vanilla perfume. The gorgeous girl holding her must've applied a generous amount prior to their get-together.

"I think that's the last of the marshmallows," a well built teenager with luscious, brown hair remarks. He holds up an empty plastic bag and gestures to the short boy next to him on the log they share. "He ate, like, half the bag."

"Too bad," the short boy with white tipped hair mumbles, his mouth full of fluffy, white sweets. The group laughs at this typical, playful remark. She, with bold, purple hair, flicks her head around to eye an azul princess, the one attached to her hip. Both snickering at the charmer of the group, they hold eye contact.

She feels a flutter in her chest. A butterfly taking flight inside her heart, elicited by the sweet, syrupy eyes she falls into. It calls out a name. Louder, louder until the ear piercing scream forces her smile to fade.

The moment holds that of an autumn leaf falling from one of the mighty trees towering over her. It's floating and fragile, drifting through time and space in a clear path towards a welcoming, syrup colored ground.

She desperately wants to look away, more desperate than a crying child wanting their mother. She wishes to God she could turn her head and instead face her fiancé across the dying fire. Every passing second drives her deeper into an alternate reality of forbidden love. Oh, what she would do to make this moment last a lifetime. What she would do to go back and say no to the most important question she'd ever be asked.

She isn't aware her mouth stands agape, staring at the blue haired wonder still holding her like a lover would.

"Mal?" the fiancé calls. She's pulled away from her dream, now caged in the eyes of her ring giver. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breaths out. Her cursed eyes sneak a glance at the prohibited love next to her before settling on her lap out of guilt.

She silently agrees to be the responsible one as the rest doze off, leaving the tiny fire open. The pleasant vanilla smell is masked by smoke and embers, though the princess's presence on her shoulder is more than enough compensation. Her lip throbs after extended abuse from conflicted teeth. Though, not really conflicted at all. She inhales the vapors and stifles a cough out of respect for her friends and fiancé.

At the thought of her earlier moment, she smiles. Surely, a heart can hold a spark just as well as a fire. Then, with butterflies exploding from her chest, she slowly jumps up from the chair swing and hurries away from the flames. Just as she hoped, the tall girl beside her startles awake. Perplexed, the girl squints to see her friend drifting from the group.

"What's wrong?" the azul princess whispers as she approaches the purple haired girl. A gaze as focused as a camera capturing the moment fixates on the tall girl. She purposefully dims her bright eyes.

"I'm getting married in two months," she responds with a heavy heart. She feels no doubt about their shared feelings and equal desire for one another. "November 26th."

The other girl simply smiles with closed, plump lips.

Their eyes lock again, the same as before, the stare intense and impossible to misinterpret.

She blinks her brightening, green eyes.

For the first time in her life, she initiates it. Two inches shorter and forced to lift herself up, she brings a set of lips to her spark without resistance. Monarchs spill into the air surrounding her as the moon blesses her face with a sliver of light. Her hands lunge to the back of a head covered in tangled, blue locks. She feels a soft hand touch her cheek, and, forgetting the moment from before, yearns for the kiss to last for an eternity. Her heart breaths a sigh of relief after finally being righted.

She thinks nothing could make this wrong, nothing could ruin such a feeling.

But then a thought emerges. And she pulls away.

She can't help but beam, though she remembers a sleeping man.

"What?" her mistress asks, her voice as quite as a single, falling snowflake.

"I have to go."

"Why?"

She leans up again for a second sin.

"Suddenly, I have to cancel plans... on November 26th."