The Magic


“What do you want?” she asked him.

“I want this.” he replied, saying nothing.

“What do you want?” she asked again, this time more pleading.

“I want you.” was his frustrating reply.

But now, since The Terrible, he knew.

He wanted The Magic.

The magic of seeing her smile, her eyes.

The magic of imagining her in Texas, in California, in Vegas, in Michigan.

The magic of missing her, knowing when he saw her again, the magic would be stronger.

The magic of the first kiss of the weekend, and the last.

The magic of movies and Dateline and Rain.

The magic of the talking, the laughter, the inappropriate jokes.

The magic of drinking coffee together on the deck.

The magic of a vacation together.

The magic of sharing even the little fears.

The magic of reassurance.

The magic of her warmth next to him.

The magic of her bed, her body.

The magic of truly seeing her and being truly seen.

She had been smarter than him, and more cautious, but the magic was undeniable to either of them.

He knew she wanted The Magic too.


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