Chapter 19. Fear of Good Things
1271 Words
Arielle North sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the red envelope that had appeared again that morning. Somehow it seemed smaller, quieter, less ominous than before—but still glowing faintly, like a shy firefly.
Her chest was still warm from yesterday. From the kiss. From the magic. From… him.
And the more she thought about it, the more that familiar panic rose in her stomach. Not the usual “bad luck is about to destroy me” panic, but something stranger. Something worse.
She was afraid.
Afraid of… good things.
It sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud. She muttered, “I’m literally afraid of… happiness. What kind of cursed human does that make me?”
Her cat, Muffin, gave her the stink-eye. “Probably a very relatable one,” Arielle imagined him saying.
The envelope shimmered again. She flinched, as if it could somehow read her thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, she opened it.
Your magic grows stronger. But beware: fear weakens it. Trust, and blessings multiply.
She dropped the card onto the bed.
Trust.
A word that felt foreign. Dangerous. Almost… impossible.
Because Arielle didn’t trust good things. Not happiness, not holidays, not romance, not the fact that she wasn’t on fire today. Not Noah.
Not the magic.
She sank onto the bed, knees pulled to her chest.
Every year, it was the same. She would let something go right—maybe a burnt cookie didn’t catch fire, maybe she didn’t trip into the Christmas tree—and then the universe would hit back. Hard. Sometimes with embarrassing public displays, sometimes with literal accidents.
And now… everything was going right.
The lights hadn’t exploded. The latte hadn’t burned her. The kiss—she still wasn’t sure if her heart would survive the memory of it.
So naturally, she was terrified.
---
NOAH DOESN’T DO NORMAL
Her phone buzzed.
A text. From Noah.
Meet me at the bookstore? I have something to show you.
Her stomach did that unpredictable flip again. She groaned. “Of course he does. Probably more magic. Probably me accidentally setting him on fire.”
But somehow… she knew she was going.
She arrived at the bookstore fifteen minutes early, pacing in front of the glowing windows like a caged reindeer.
Noah opened the door before she could knock. “You’re early.”
“I wanted to make sure I didn’t accidentally trip over a sidewalk crack and ruin everything,” she said quickly.
“You always think like that.”
“That’s why I’m alive.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Alive and glowing.”
She froze. “I—how—?”
“Magic leak,” he said with mock seriousness. “And it’s adorable.”
She hit him playfully with a mitten. “Stop! I’m serious!”
“No, you’re not.”
She huffed.
Noah led her into the back of the store. He stopped in front of a display of hand-painted ornaments. She blinked.
“They’re beautiful,” she murmured.
He smiled. “Yes. And… I wanted you to have the first one.”
He picked up a tiny glass ornament shaped like a star. Inside, a miniature snow globe scene twinkled.
“Why me?” she whispered, staring at it.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you deserve things that go right. Things that are beautiful and simple. Things that don’t explode.”
Her chest tightened. “Noah…”
He handed it to her. When her fingers brushed his, the warmth surged again. The magic pulsed softly around her like a heartbeat she couldn’t control.
Her breath caught. She almost dropped it.
“I can’t… I don’t… I shouldn’t—” she stammered.
He tilted his head. “Shouldn’t what?”
“Trust that… good things… don’t… end in disaster,” she whispered, voice trembling.
Noah’s expression softened. He stepped closer. “Arielle, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not a disaster. And you… you don’t have to be afraid of happiness with me.”
She swallowed, heart thudding. The warmth in her chest spread like sunlight. But fear gripped her throat.
“What if it doesn’t last?” she asked, voice tiny.
“It will last,” he said firmly. “I promise. But only if you let it.”
---
MAGIC REACTS TO FEAR
Arielle stared at the little star ornament. Tiny golden sparks drifted from it. She blinked. Her magic stirred in response to her doubt.
“See?” she whispered. “Even the magic knows I’m scared.”
Noah chuckled softly. “Or maybe it’s telling you something else. That it responds to your heart. And your heart… is just fine.”
“Fine?” she repeated. “My heart is glowing, I can’t stop blushing, I’m panicking, I—”
He put a finger on her lips. “Shhh.”
The warmth pulsed stronger. The golden glow wrapped around her, not chaotic this time, not dangerous—soft, reassuring, like a hug she couldn’t refuse.
“You see?” he said softly. “The magic doesn’t punish you for feeling. It responds to honesty. To courage. Even if it scares you.”
Arielle’s chest tightened. She wanted to argue—but couldn’t.
---
THE FIRST STEP
They stood in silence for a moment. Snow drifted against the window panes. The store lights glimmered. The golden glow around Arielle flickered gently, like a shy sunrise.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Of… liking good things. Of… this. You. The magic. Feeling safe.”
He reached out, hand trembling slightly. “Then let me help you. We can face it together.”
Her pulse jumped. “Together?”
“Together,” he said, eyes soft. “I’ll take the risk if you take the risk.”
Her magic reacted instantly. Warmth blossomed in her chest, spreading into the air like delicate golden sparks. She laughed nervously. “I think… I’m… okay with that.”
Noah smiled. And then, carefully, gently, he kissed her.
Not long. Not rushed. Just enough. Enough to make her pulse dance, enough to make the golden glow flare slightly around them, enough to make her realize…
She wasn’t afraid anymore.
Not of him. Not of magic. Not of good things.
Because good things could exist.
And she could survive them.
And maybe… she even deserved them.
---
A MIRACLE OF FEELINGS
The glow slowly dimmed back into her chest. A soft hum lingered in the room. Arielle stared at Noah, heart thudding, breath caught, cheeks flushed.
“You feel that?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not scary anymore.”
“I… I think… I like this,” she admitted, trembling. “I like you. And… and maybe the magic too.”
He smiled—slow, warm, steady. “That’s a start.”
She laughed softly. “A very glowing start.”
He took her hand. “A start we’ll never let go of.”
And outside, faint golden sparks drifted from her boots into the street. The snowflakes seemed to sparkle in response. The universe didn’t explode.
The universe approved.
Arielle smiled. For the first time in her life, she didn’t flinch from happiness. She let it in. She let herself feel.
The magic wasn’t dangerous anymore.
It was beautiful.
---
The red envelope shimmered faintly on her bedside table.
It had nothing to say.
Because Arielle had already learned the lesson:
Fear only weakened good things.
Trust—trust made them grow.
And maybe, just maybe… miracles were meant to be shared.
- Writer
