Not close.But loud enough.
Julian turned his head.“Did you hear that?”
I nodded, already pulling away.“Teenagers.Probably from the trailer park off Church Street.They come through the woods to get high and scare each other.”
Julian snorted.“Hope they don’t stumble into your fairy circle.”
“I’ve blessed the path,” I said, half-joking.“The spirits might get to them before they get to us.”
That earned a grin, but the moment had broken.Just a little.The fire had burned too low to keep the illusion intact.
Still, I wasn’t ready for the night to end.Not yet.
I looked at him, feeling suddenly shy.“Do you… want to come inside?For a drink?”I gestured toward the Healing Center.“I’ve got a bottle of wine.Local stuff.Made just outside Charlottesville.”
Julian arched a brow like he was deciding whether to tease me or take me up on it.“Sure,” he said.“But only if it’s not made from crystals or moonlight.”
“It’s fermented grapes, I promise,” I said with a small smile.“But I can bless it if that helps.”
He gave me a crooked little grin, and we stood, brushing bits of ash and grass from our clothes.
The Healing Center was peaceful at night—more than peaceful.Sacred.It was built to breathe with the surrounding forest.Wide windows.Cedar floors.Soft lamplight instead of overhead glare.The energy inside felt… aligned.Like walking into the calm after a prayer you didn’t know you’d made.
Julian slowed as we entered, eyes scanning the space.His tone shifted.“This place is…” He didn’t finish.
“Quiet?”I offered.
He nodded.“Tranquil.”
“It holds energy well,” I said, letting the door click softly shut behind us.“People come in vibrating with grief, anger, anxiety.By the time they leave, they’ve usually dropped some of it at the door.”
He didn’t answer.Just looked around like he was trying to figure out what he felt.
I led him to the back, up a set of narrow stairs to the loft where I lived.It was small.Purposefully so.The roof angled low on one side, and the space was mostly open—just a bed, a couch, a coffee table.A kitchenette tucked against the far wall, a tiny bathroom behind a sliding barn door.The walls were bare except for one old photo of my grandmother smiling in her garden.No clutter.No artifice.
Julian stepped in and blinked.“Jesus.”
I tilted my head.“Too much wood paneling?”
“No, it’s just…” He gave me a sideways glance.“It’s like a hotel room if monks ran the hotel.”
I smiled and stepped around him toward the counter.“I don’t enjoy owning a lot of things,” I said, pulling the wine from the cupboard.“Too messy.Too chaotic.Things get in the way.”
“Of what?”he asked, watching me.
“Stillness.”
He looked like he wanted to say something snarky.But he didn’t.
I poured two glasses, handed one to him.“Cheers?”
Julian didn’t answer.He set the glass down without drinking and took a single step forward.
And then, without a word, he kissed me.
Hard.
His mouth crashed into mine, hands sliding around my waist, gripping tight like he was afraid I might vanish if he didn’t hold on with everything he had.
