Sybil found him through the shimmer and chaos of the ballroom like she always did—by feel before sight. Gold lights, music swelling, magic humming under her skin. She slipped up beside Louis, fingers immediately curling into the familiar safety of his hand, thumb brushing his knuckles like a grounding spell she’d cast a thousand times before. “One year,” she said softly, eyes tipping up to his with that crooked, glowing smile. “One full orbit since you finally stopped pretending you didn’t know I was in love with you.” A beat—then her grin turned playful, reverent all at once. “The younger me would be losing her mind right now. The me now?” She squeezed his hand, leaning in close as fireworks crackled somewhere outside. “She just knows she picked right.” @immcrtalsx