Firefly Glen im too lit to dim down a notch

*blows a kiss* set after this, keeping it a little vague for now

the boy made of ashes like the forest she left behind had been a spot of comfort on the bleak landscape of her soul, but witchbaby found herself doubling back on her path despite. it feels foreign on her - the girl is movemetum alive, a constant force barrelling forward, but somethin' in the air is drawing her here tonight. 

in the moonlight she is a spot of purpled flame, focused so intently on the blips of light that dance by her ears she nearly misses --

that scent, so sweetly beckoning, so sharpened anxiety, and the moment is so perfect it becomes unreal (in the moonlight lit by fireflies like every dumb-beautiful romance, lead her straight back to where her heart lives)

but in the darkness she hesitates, fear overtaking what should have been her greatest jouissance, and the starlet trembles as she steps beside the angel with shaking paws. "s'beautiful out tonight," witchbaby says, her voice caught in her throat, a trembling whisper, and oh, let kinkajuú strike her down for her guilt, but at least she would see her once last time for it.