Charmed Chaos

4. The stars watch us too

EMILY

Okay, I was excited.

Tonight was the night where Ian planned he will propose to Rachel.

"Why am I just as excited as Ian himself?" I whispered to Aunt Lena.

Whispering back, she answered, "Don't distract me. Your sister isn't the easiest person to guide in the night."

Currently, Rachel was blindfolded, and unknowing to her, we were taking her to the restaurant which has been decorated for a romantic dinner for her and Ian.

"Just so it be said, if you guys are taking me to some forest to be sold, it had better be for some damn good amount," Rachel let out, as she clutched onto Aunt Lena's arm, who guided her.

"No way you think you will fetch a good price," I teased her, trailing behind her as she walked, still blindfolded.

"Okay, can you guys give me a hint?" Rachel let out. "Hmm. Just so you know, if it's a car you guys are buying for me... I will appreciate it. Don't even think about changing your minds now."

Still carefully holding onto her arm, Aunt Lena said, "Rachel, just wait until you see it. But, rest assured, nobody will be buying you any car. Not even a small toy one."

As we got closer, Aunt Lena gestured for me to go check if everything was ready.

"Okay," I mouthed to her.

Walking into the restaurant, a wave of excitement washed over me. Didn't we go all out planning this special date?

I can't wait for her to see the place we have set up.

As I approached the table, I was struck by its beauty. A pristine white tablecloth draped smoothly over it, creating a clean canvas. Soft, flickering candlelight illuminated the area, casting a gentle, warm glow.

"Woo," I exclaimed as I saw Ian in a yellow suit. "You look... surprisingly good. Nobody should be able to pull this off."

Exhaling, he said, "Oh, thank you. How do you see it?"

Turning around, I replied, "Take it from me, Ian... she will love it."

Oh, la la! The table was looking so romantic that it began to feel like it was flirting with me.

Picture this: rose petals playfully scattered across the table, adding that extra oomph of romance. The vibrant red colour of the petals popped out against the crisp white tablecloth, creating a visual treat for the eyes.

The centrepiece stole the show. A gorgeous bouquet of deep red roses stood tall in an elegant yellow vase. The roses appeared fresh and vibrant, their petals soft and elegant.

Pointing to the vase, I said, "I would have gone for a milky white vase or even crystal. But given that my sister has an obsession with yellow, I think it's just perfect."

The table setting itself was pristine. The cutlery gleamed in the soft light, reflecting a clean and polished appearance. White plates were placed on the table, ready to showcase the food that was soon to come.

Tall and slender champagne flutes gleamed alongside the other tableware, standing ready for a toast. A chilled bottle of sparkling champagne sat in an ice bucket.

A soft, melodic tune filled the air—this was my idea! Right from our childhood, I have known that Rachel loved this tune. Whenever she sang it, she would close her eyes until she was done.

Nodding, I said, "This is perfect. It's time, Ian."

As I returned to Aunt Lena, in whispers, she said, "Look who's here. I thought you had eloped with him instead."

Gently, we took her to the front of the restaurant and took off her blindfold.

"Why are we at the restaurant?" she inquired, looking at both of us. "Why do you both look so happy? Come on, tell me something!"

Two of us pulled her in an embrace, and Aunt Lena said, "You will always be my little girl."

Her gaze now on Aunt Lena, she asked, "Why are you crying?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," I exclaimed, "get your ass in there already."

As soon as she opened the door, her jaw dropped.

"Oh my... this is so beautiful," she declared, turning around and around. "Aunt Lena, Emily, come see this."

Aunt Lena shook her head, saying, "Nah. Our job here is done."

After those parting words, we headed back to the house.

"I can't believe she's actually going to get married," Aunt Lena said, wiping her eyes dry. "I still see her as that little girl who wanted everything in yellow."

I put an arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek as we walked. "Now you just have one more niece to marry off and your job is done."

We both chuckled at that, walking, now holding hands.

You know, whenever I say I wanted true love, people often think you wanted something unattainable. People think you are asking for far too much.

I beg to differ.

True love doesn't require either party to be perfect. If that were the case, it wouldn't exist. I felt true love simply required a strong, genuine mutual feeling. It required one to see someone else as not a part that completes them, but one that complements them.

But what did I know about true love? Perhaps the only person I have ever truly felt anything for is the man I dream about.

We got home, and Aunt Lena made dinner for us to eat.

As we ate, I asked, "Do you think she said yes?"

Chuckling, she answered, "He put up such a romantic dinner and pulled up in a yellow suit... she might as well have said yes before he asked."

Smiling, I said, "Such a romantic night for two lovebirds."

"After which they're going to go at it like they are auditioning for a p**n gig."

Gasping, I said, "You don't know that, Aunt Lena. Not everyone is as s****l as you are. Some people value simple, pure romance without getting all primal."

Gesturing with her hands as she spoke, she said, "Oh, I definitely know what I'm saying. When my ex proposed to me, we definitely did the naughty right after. I can give you the full uncut details if you like."

Both of us now chuckling, I said, "That's a pass for me."

Aunt Lena was quite humorous. But I couldn't help feeling for her when she talked about one of her exes who proposed to her. While I couldn't be sure, something told me that woman she often spoke of was the one person she truly loved. How sad that she had to give that up to take care of us.

Snapping my fingers as I remembered something, I said, "Oh, I saw a guy today. You wouldn't believe it... he had no binders on."

Chewing her food, she said, "Oh, I definitely believe it because I saw him walking with Mirabel earlier. I even know who he is."

Now giving her my undivided attention, I asked, "Who is he?"

Aunt Lena told me his name was Nolan, and he was one of Mirabel's children. She claimed there were rumours that he left the town because he hated being a werewolf and life in Darkwood.

Continuing, she added, "He seems to be the only one who took after Mirabel's beauty. Because the other two... sometimes they will be looking like something found in the..."

"Aunt Lena!" I interrupted her.

Packing the plates, she said, "I think I raised you girls a little too well."

Soon after dinner, Aunt Lena went to bed. For some reason, I couldn't get myself to sleep. I started counting backwards, taking deep breaths— nothing worked.

It was already past midnight and I figured Rachel spent the night at Ian's place.

Perhaps Aunt Lena's playful remark was accurate after all.

After spending another twenty minutes without sleeping, I decided to sneak out and go to the 'spot'.

The 'spot' was the name we gave the rooftop of a building where the witches kept some of their important objects and relics. And because no one person actually owned it, Rachel and I would often go there and lie on the solid rooftop to stare at the sky. For some reason, we were convinced the view was best from up there.

As I climbed the ladder up to the top, for the first time ever, someone else was there.

He turned as he heard my footsteps.

Damn it.

It was Nolan Hardman. The guy I saw earlier.

"I can't just..." I said, about to turn around.

"I don't bite," he said, now lying back down, facing the beautiful night sky. "And I sure as hell wouldn't mind the company."

Though keeping my distance, I placed my blanket right beside his. "A wolf doesn't bite? I guess it's true that we learn every day."

He turned to me as he laughed. Damn it. Wasn't he even more stunning from this view?

"You know, when I was younger, my Dad used to say the stars watch us too," he said, raising a hand, as if trying to look at a star through his fingers.

Now shifting my gaze back to the sky, I responded, "I would like to think they're watching us. It makes us feel more important, doesn't it?"

"My thought exactly," he said, turning to face me. "For the sake of this moment, imagine if they were staring down at both of us right now."

As I turned to face him, I nearly lost my mind. How could I have missed this?