Whatever higher power had brought them to this place and provided them with only one tent between them, Jacopo could have kissed them. Just as soon as he was done kissing Birch.

And, right now, it felt like he would never be done.

When was the last time he’d felt like this, with a lover so precious in his arms and the weight of the world lifted off his chest? That was easy to answer: it was the last time he’d been with Birch. She grinned into his kiss, forgiving, and wonderful thing that she was, and leant fully into the embrace. If Jacopo had held her any closer, they’d have become one person. He moved his line of kisses down to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, not sure if the racing pulse between his finger tips was his or hers. Perhaps their hearts were finally beating as one now that they were fully on the same page for the first time.

“So there is.” Keeping one arm around her upper back, he leant down to hook the other behind her knees and swept her up into his arms. It was an unnecessarily grand gesture given that the tent was only a few steps away and he had to set her back on her feet in order to have a hand free to unzip it, but it was worth it to feel like he was walking on clouds.


Whatever Birch had been cooking on the fire outside, it was long forgotten. The walls of the tent and the sleeping bag, which they’d opened out and laid down as a sort of thin mattress, trapped the heat their bodies conjured and provided adequate protection against the cooling air outside. Although the sun had set, they weren’t devoid of light. Outside, dancing fireflies provided a gentle glow which seeped through the tent walls. As one passed overhead, illuminating their faces, Jacopo reached out to gently brush a lock of hair behind Birch’s ear.

Other than their own hard breathing and the distant crickets singing their tune, all was quiet. All was calm. No rowdy guests, no barking dogs, no teenagers bursting in with tears and urgent questions. In the past Jacopo might have worried about leaving the kids home alone without adult supervision – especially since Thoth and Cypress were both there – but his anxieties had been pleasantly dulled by the evening’s indulgence. He leant over and pressed his lips against Birch’s again, just to savour the taste. Just because he could.

And because, now, some inkling of understanding had seeped through. Something in their union had flipped a switch, and now he was beginning to realise why she had been so implicit.

“I want this,” he said quietly and without reservation, reaching out to cup her hands in his. “I want a future with you. I’ll start fighting for it, I promise.”