I've always loved love—intertwined fingers and fleeting eye contact—the intimacy of conversation and the comfort of a warm body beside you. But at the same time, I've also always known about love's dangers.

My mom loved my dad more than she could bear. She'd cook for him, clean for him—she'd do anything, and everything for his validation, and I watched as she slowly crumbled. I watched as she had to pay the price of loving a man so cruel.

And I'd sit in my room, hidden under my favourite pink blanket, clinging to some semblance of my childhood as I heard my mom's screams at night. I'd believe in the fairies all my friends talked about—I'd believe in their magic and hope they'd sweep my mom away, or maybe they'd take my dad instead. Maybe they'd save us from his cruelty.

And as I'd hear my mom's screams grow louder, I'd pray. I'd pray to a ceiling that I knew was probably just a ceiling, and I'd ask God or the universe or some higher power to help my mom, but it never did. It never changed until one day, my dad wanted a divorce—until one day, he simply disappeared from our lives.

My mom fell into a deep sadness after that, and I resented her for it. I thought she was so foolish for loving a man like him, but that's just the thing, isn't it? You can't choose who you love. I realize that now more than ever as I look at the boy in front of me—the boy I tried so hard to hate.

"I love you, Ivy Blake. With my whole heart, I love you." He whispers the words like they're so fragile that they'll break—like they're so sacred that only I can hear them. I stare at him, shock, and perhaps the alcohol in my system rendering me speechless. I stare at his green eyes, and how some stray hairs messily cover his forehead. I stare at the lips that I could spend my entire life kissing—at the person I'd spend my entire life doing nothing with.

Maybe love is dangerous, and maybe I shouldn't fall. Maybe it'll only end with me getting hurt, but what is it to be human if not to love? What is it to be human if not to feel unabashedly—with no control or pause for reason? Besides, it's too late to stop now—I've already fallen utterly, madly, completely.

"I love you back, Aaron Kristensen." I pause, bringing my face toward his. "With my whole heart." His lips crash against my wide grin, the room spinning as I take in this moment, or rather, I memorize it. I memorize his scent, his taste, his touch... No one else exists, and nothing else matters. We're the only ones here, dancing in pure joy because we're young and drunk and more in love than I ever thought possible.

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