The opening notes of "Angel" drift through the night air, and my heart stutters to a halt. The familiar melody wraps around me like an embrace from the past.
"Ares..." My voice wavers between laughter and tears.
But he's already on his feet, unbuttoning his shirt with dramatic flair. "This wasn't part of the original performance," he says with a wicked grin, "but I thought I'd give you the upgraded version. The adult edition."
I cover my mouth as he tosses his shirt aside, standing before me in the moonlight, all sculpted muscle and beautiful ink. His compass tattoo catches the glow of the string lights, and for a moment, I'm transported back to that tiny kitchen in the staff cottage, wooden spoon microphone and stolen wine, two teenagers drunk on love and possibility.
"Baby, you're my angel..." he sings, completely off-key just like that night years ago, extending his hand with a flourish.
Laughter bubbles up from some long-forgotten place inside me as I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. He spins me in a circle, his hand warm and firm in mine, the other arm wrapping around my waist to guide me through the turn as he belts out the chorus with his imaginary microphone.
"You're still such a dork," I manage between giggles as he releases my hand to cradle my back, dipping me dramatically.
He pulls me back up, both hands now free to cup my face as his expression softens. He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek with gentle fingers. "Yeah, but I'm your dork. Always have been."
The tears come then, joy spilling over as I press my forehead against his chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath my ear, strong and steady and real. "My Sainty," I whisper, the words meant only for him. "My beautiful, dorky Sainty."
His arms tighten around me as we sway to the music, the stars our only witnesses. The boy with the wooden spoon microphone and the girl who sketched stars—here we are, older, scarred, but somehow finding our way back to each other.
When the song ends, Ares cups my face in his hands, his eyes reflecting the universe above us. "I love you, Red."
"I love you too," I whisper against his lips. "Even when I tried not to."
We sink back into our nest of blankets, wrapped in each other and starlight. Above us, the stars wheel in their ancient patterns, witnesses to countless stories like ours.
"I used to look up at these same stars," I admit softly. "After... after everything. I'd imagine you were looking at them too, somewhere out there."
"I was." His voice is rough. "In Switzerland, I'd sneak out to the school roof. The stars were so bright in the mountains."
My heart squeezes.
"I know we have battles ahead," he continues, fingers tracing patterns on my arm. "My parents won't give up easily."
I shift to look at him, studying the sharp lines of his face in the starlight. "Are you scared?"
"Of them? No." His jaw tightens. "Of losing you again? Terrified."
"You won't lose me." I prop myself up on one elbow, needing him to see the truth in my eyes. "We're not those kids anymore, Sainty. I'm not that scared girl who let them chase her away."
His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. "No, you're not. You're stronger now. Fiercer."
"So are you." I turn my face to kiss his palm. "The boy I knew would never have stood up to his father like you’re doing now."
"The boy you knew was a coward."
"Hey." I grab his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. "That boy was trapped. But this man? The one who walked away from everything to find his own path and happiness? He's anything but a coward."
Above us, a star shoots across the sky, a brief flash of brilliance against the dark. I make a silent wish, just like I did that night in the garden all those years ago.
"What did you wish for?" Ares asks, his voice soft.
I smile, remembering. "Can't tell you. Bad luck."
"Did your last wish come true?"
The question catches me off guard. That night, young and desperately in love, I'd wished for forever with him. "Not then," I whisper. "But maybe now..."
His kiss is gentle, reverent, like he's trying to taste the words I can't say. When we break apart, I see my own hopes reflected in his eyes.
