“I’m so sorry I’m late, did you wait for long?”
Stella’s hand, which had lazily been dragging a quill in random patterns in the margins of a piece of paper, came to a stop. She looked up at Kallisto who stood before her, slightly disheveled and breathing hard, a rare sight to see. Stella wished she was the reason. She shot a quick, playful smile at Kallisto.
“You’re usually on time, did someone hold you back?”
A wink to emphasise the playfulness, lest her jealousy made itself known. Kallisto huffed in response.
“I got distracted writing down some spell formulas. I rushed here as quickly as I could once I remembered the time.”
Stella’s jealousy immediately settled down, causing her to mentally curse at herself for being so possessive over a friend. Outwardly, she simply laughed and turned to the papers and books on the table as Kallisto sat down next to her.
“Sure, if you say so.”
“Yes I say so.”
Kallisto rolled her eyes and pouted at Stella, an act that Stella could not help but find incredibly adorable. Of course Stella meant no harm and Kallisto was not actually offended, it was simply friendly banter.
“Let’s just get on with studying, how far did you get?”
“I uh, I haven’t started yet.”
~
After some grumbles from Kallisto about Stella’s lousy study techniques, the two had settled down into a study pace. Reading books, writing down notes, re-reading, discussing arcane concepts, writing more notes, reviewing old notes, and on and on it went. Stella laid her head down on the table, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Have you given up already?”
Stella cracked open an eye, looking up at Kallisto but not moving from her position. Kallisto had propped her left arm up on the table, leaning into the palm of her hand, looking down at Stella to the right of her. From where Stella was resting her head and looking up at Kallisto, the sunlight from the window behind her looked like a halo around Kallisto’s head. She was smiling oh so sweetly, it was like nectar to a man dying of thirst in a desert, rest for the wicked, salvation to the desperate sinner. Before Stella could stop herself, her hand reached out and up, brushing a stray hair from Kallisto’s face. She should have retracted her hand, but she didn’t. It rested against Kallisto’s cheek, as Stella admired her face; eyes slightly widened, lips slightly parted, cheeks slightly tinted red. Stella’s want for Kallisto bubbled inside her and rushed forward like a stream, without a chance to stop it.
“Can’t you be mine?”
The moment she said it, Stella flinched as if broken out of a spell.
“Wait, shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”
Stella began to sit up, retracting her hand as she did, mind racing as panic filled her entire being, she didn’t mean to confess like that, she didn’t mean to confess at all, she shouldn’t-
Kallisto grabbed her hand.
Stella froze as if shocked by lightning, and in a way she had because she always felt electricity in her whole body when Kallisto touched her. She regained a sense of control over her body, and looked up at Kallisto’s face. What she saw was a blushing mess, wide eyes piercing her.
“Do you mean that? Do you really want me?”
Before Kallisto spoke, Stella had fooled herself into thinking there was hope in Kallisto’s eyes, her feelings and love reflected as if a mirror of her own. When Kallisto spoke and Stella heard the urging, the need for confirmation in Kallisto’s voice, she realised that she was not fooling herself into anything. She reached out, gingerly but hurriedly taking Kallisto’s face into her hands, barely taking any time to process what was happening or thinking about the consequences, leaning closer to Kallisto.
“Yes.”
Stella’s lips crashed onto Kallisto’s, hungry and eager but gentle. She could feel Kallisto’s hands come up to cup her face in return, warm and electric. All of Kallisto was warm, her lips tasting like vanilla and caramel and cinnamon. Lips moving against each other, Stella moving an arm to wrap around Kallisto’s waist and pulling her closer, ready to devour her and claim her entirely. Kallisto was sitting in Stella’s lap at this point, but she was still not close enough, still not entirely real to Stella. She was grasping and holding on so tightly, scared that the other would disappear.
With a sharp inhale, Stella’s eyes opened. She looked up at Kallisto from where she was resting on the table. The golden rays of sunlight created a halo around Kallisto’s head, and she looked down at Stella and smiled oh so sweetly. Stella did not reach out to touch Kallisto. She knew that Kallisto was out of reach, and was meant to stay out of reach. Kallisto was a white flower destined to die, and Stella was immortal darkness and decay. The closest she could get to Kallisto was closing her eyes to play pretend.