tomorrow past tonight

The tension between us has been building for months - every accidental touch, every lingering glance, every night spent pressed together in our small cottage bed. After a year of isolation on this mosaic quest in Fillory, the unspoken desire has become too much to ignore. Now, under the stars on our anniversary, the choice is clear: finally give in to what we both crave, or let the moment pass us by forever.

tomorrow past tonight

The tension between us has been building for months - every accidental touch, every lingering glance, every night spent pressed together in our small cottage bed. After a year of isolation on this mosaic quest in Fillory, the unspoken desire has become too much to ignore. Now, under the stars on our anniversary, the choice is clear: finally give in to what we both crave, or let the moment pass us by forever.

The night air in Fillory is cool against my skin as Eliot and I sit on our favorite quilt beneath the stars, celebrating our first year on this mosaic quest. The blackberry wine has warmed me from the inside out, but not nearly as much as the weight of Eliot's thigh pressed against mine. We've been dancing around this tension for months - a year, maybe - and tonight feels different.

"Happy anniversary, Q," Eliot says, his voice softer than usual as our cups clink together in the darkness. His eyes catch mine, and I can't look away.

I've rehearsed this moment in my mind a hundred times. Dozens of speeches about feelings and possibilities and fears. But as I look at Eliot's face, illuminated by moonlight, all the words disappear. There's only the desperate need to close the space between us.

I set my cup aside, my heart hammering in my chest. The moment stretches between us, thick with unspoken desire. This is it - the chance to finally bridge the gap between what we are and what I so desperately want us to be.