He pulls me out of the bar, the cold wind dancing through my hair as our feet thud against the pavement. And I laugh. I look up at the sky, at the stars, at the moon as we run through the streets of New York, and I laugh.

Eventually we stop in a quiet area, me pinned against a wall. "What is it that's so funny?" Aaron asks, looking down at me curiously with a small grin of his own.

"Mm," I shrug. "I guess I'm just happy." But it's more than that. I know it's more than that. It's as though I'm falling. No, I am falling. Deeply. Madly. Infinitely. And if this is what it is to fall, god, I never want to get up. God, I want to fall forever, and ever with him.

And when he cups my face, I melt. I melt into the warmth of his hands, completely, and utterly undone by his touch. "Well, happiness suits you, baby," and I swear I'm only a puddle now. I don't exist. I can't. I think I've exploded.

But I want to tell him it's not happiness that I'm feeling. It's him. I swear it's him. Happiness doesn't do this to me. Only he does this to me. And I want to ask. I want to know, Aaron, can you feel it too?

And by some weird fate, or luck of draw, he says, "I can feel it too." I furrow my brows, somehow afraid he can hear my internal dialogue. "The happiness, I mean. I can feel it too."

I smile, and lean in to kiss him, an idea coming to mind. "Follow me." And before he can stop me, I run. Before I can stop myself, I keep falling, and I keep melting, and I keep falling, and I keep melting. I hope it stays this way forever.