Summer's Last Firefly

eart to the sorcerer," I said sleepily. "Then, when she finally saw the knight's worth, h

. His voice was steady, reassuring. "As long

oo dazed to think straight. My eyelids

ead as he smoothed the furrow between my brows. His gaze spark

rt cle

se the walls I'd built, the hesitations I carried from my past

nto the fabric of his sleeve. Whether it was the alcohol or the weight of my unsa

ugh relationships, too cautious, too afraid to give all of myself. I c

for the day I could stan

a soothing balm. "I'll wait until you've made room for me –

to me. You're g

n, only to find out it was a lie... I c

his hair catching the warm light and giving him an angelic

r so long began to unravel. His warmth seeped into the corners of my h

me collapse for him – a soft, tender s

l-time position, still a near-invisible figure in the edi

onsibilities was ma

tored in the rejection archive for two weeks

ck to any authors who followed up, I dilige

was a manuscript titled "Summer's Last F

erly captivated. At the time, I didn't know Clint – I only knew

ree reviewing editors, determined to make them recons

rising patience. "This kind of sweet, heartwarming fairy tale doesn't sell with our audience.

uring woodland animals. It avoided cliché drama, and its language

out the rejection notice, imagining the disappointment tha

'Summer's Last Firefly'! It's the most uplifting story I

stride at work and was assigne

g manuscripts. But Clint and I seemed to click, finding common ground in nearly every conversa

t called me out of the blue, breat

lready in my pajam

d just run a marathon. Af

on ea

r to call him back, my phone

g on?" I picked up

ask... what's

aying he was at my apartment complex a

ned. I knew writers could be eccentric, but this

He finally managed to calm his breathing. "Do you rememb

e I do."

pt running laps around the forest, circling endlessly until he was completely

lung to his frame. "If I couldn't see anything clearly, I'd just keep running. Twenty laps, thirty laps – whatever it takes.

Serena." Time seemed to blur as Clint recreat

oon hung low, and there was no wind, no clouds – just an endle

his goofy grin making his

replayed these words in

n a call from an unknown number interrupted me. I answered witho