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“Even the grumpy cat?”

“We have a grumpy cat?” he replies, and I can’t help but laugh.

Cleaning up isn’t just about tidying. It is reaffirming the life we’ve built together, brick by brick, dream by dream. Our fingers intertwine, soap slipping between them, and I feel it again—that profound sense of gratitude for this man, this moment, this magic we’ve spun from nothing but hope and hard work.

“Come on,” I say, giving his hand a gentle tug. “Let’s finish up here. There’s a pot of asrbloom tea with our names on it, and I intend to enjoy every last drop before we call it a night.”

“Lead the way,” he says with that half-smile that always seems to say more than words ever could.

We work until the tea shop gleams, a silent vessel waiting to be filled with tomorrow’s laughter and stories. When we hang the closed sign on the door, I know, deep in my bones, that we are exactly where we are meant to be.

I pour the last of the asrbloom tea into two chipped mugs that survived the day’s frenzy. The shop hums with a satisfied silence, the kind that only comes after a space has buzzed with life and laughter. I settle beside Draven on the cushioned bench by the window, tucking my feet beneath me.

“Today was…” I start but trail off, lost in thought.

“An absolute whirlwind of delight?” Draven offers. He takes a sip of his tea.

“Delight’s one word for it,” I agree, chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the Baroness of Blythe trying to haggle over a scone.”

Draven laughs, a warm sound that fills the room. “And her face when you threw in an extra for good measure. Priceless!”

“Ah, but your face when little Timmy decided your lap was the perfect throne for his cookie kingdom.” I nudge him playfully.

“Ah yes, King Timmy,” he says, rubbing at a phantom crumb. “May his reign be sweet and full of mischief.”

We lean against each other, our sides brushing in the quiet comfort of shared memories. It feels like weaving threads of gold into the tapestry of ourlives—a tapestry that shimmers with spells and soft whispers, holding the promise of more days like this.

“None of this would’ve been possible without you, Thorn,” Draven says earnestly, his hand finding mine. “You’re the heart of this place.”

“Us,” I correct softly, squeezing his hand. “We’re the heart of it. That’s what makes it special.”

He nods, and we sit there, two halves of a whole, until the last drop of tea vanishes from our cups.

“Ready to lock up?” he asks, standing and offering me his hand.

“Let’s do it,” I reply, feeling the familiar rush of anticipation as I think about what tomorrow might bring.

The metallic click of the lock echoes through the empty street as we step outside. Draven’s hand is warm in mine, anchoring me to the moment. Luna trails behind us, her tail wagging gracefully with joy. We walk in sync, our shadows stretching long and playful behind us under the light of the half-moon.

“Look at us, huh?” I say, a wistful note coloring my words. “From a half vampire, half witch and a vampire to tea shopconnoisseurs.”

“Only the beginning, my fierce enchantress,” he murmurs, lifting our entwined hands to kiss the back of mine.

“Speaking of beginnings, think the world’s ready for what we’ll brew up next?” I tease, bumping my shoulder against his.

“Let them come,” he says, his voice laced with the thrill of future challenges. “We’ll be ready for them, side by side.”

“Side by side,” I echo, knowing it for the truth it is. Our dreams are spun from starlight and shadows, bound tight by love and the certainty that, together, we can face anything the fates toss our way.