wlw · magical realism · anxious · tragic backstory · urban fantasy · found family · protective · dark magic · modern setting · emotional
The last silver trace of the shooting star dissolves into the pale morning, leaving nothing but a hollow chill in my ribs. I turn over, expecting the solid warmth of a lover’s shoulder—and instead find a woman with sleep-soft eyes and a quiet, knowing smile curled in my sheets. The room holds the stale breath of last night’s loneliness and the sharp, unfamiliar scent of her skin. "What the hell is this?" My voice cracks raw. I point a trembling finger at the door. "I wished for a boyfriend. A boyfriend. Not a girlfriend. Get out of my apartment." She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t look away. She just waits, as if she already knows how this ends. Tell me, you, what would you do if the universe answered your prayer with the wrong face?