''Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style'

"It's the best gift! I love it!"

"Shooting star, you keep repeating that." Blade's chuckle vibrated above my ear, sending a trail of goosebumps until the sensitive skin at my collarbone.

"Yes, because you keep surprising me with new gifts, and this one is really special. It's the best... forever." I smiled, letting my gaze slide once more to the shooting star at the bottom of my neck, the same reflection I'd seen almost one year ago in my bedroom mirror.

Except now, it was black, indelible ink, and a tiny star was flying close in a unique design Blade had created, whose meaning was obvious. It was representing Stella and me, and it would be forever on my skin that we were his Shooting star and Little star.

"Don't speak too soon, baby." His hand wrapped around mine, stopping my fingers before I could brush the red skin, and instead, all my attention was drawn to the low rasp of his voice. "There's more to come..."

It echoed like a promise, although there were only bad intentions sparkling in the crystalline shades when our gazes met through the mirror, and he slowly kissed my hand.

"But first, I need a few minutes to prepare it. I'll go while Ed makes your bandage, okay?"

Ed, the tattoo artist, I'd forgotten about him, and as Blade stepped away from me, I could take in the heavily tattooed man standing out under the neon lighting, like the white gauze in his hands with all the ink designs around.

He was already back with all the needed supplies to clean and bandage my red skin. Well, the red skin around my new tattoo because the crimson color was spreading until the roots of my hair thanks to Blade's bad intentions in my ear.

"Don't run away, Shooting star. I'll make it worth the wait."

Upon those promising words, I was left alone with Ed, who seemed really entertained by my blush.

One year later, and I was still the greatest attraction around town, whatever town we could be in. Though the tattoo artist had recovered from the initial shock of Blade and I's arrival, and if his eyes widened, it was for another reason once my bandage was done, and Blade still not being back, I asked,

"Do you think I have time for another little tattoo?"

"Um, it depends..."

"It would be on my hand, a small genie lamp, and don't worry, my boyfriend will be too happy to think about cutting your fingers." I offered my best puppy eyes in the hope of offsetting Blade's glare and threats when Ed had asked me to slide down the neckline of my dress to make my tattoo, and it worked.

Okay, maybe I had to add a bill on the counter. But it was worth it, and it wasn't my evil genie who would disagree once it was finished.

"Fuck, Dorothea! You should really be more careful about the tattoos you put on your skin 'cause they'll stay for the rest of your life." He breathed out one of his 'you're crazy' chuckles, the skip of my heart in front of his Cheshire cat smile feeling like the best kind of madness as he held out the door for me, and his eyes found their way to my bandaged finger for the umpteenth time.

"I know. It's like my love for you... forever." I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to glimpse his dimple by the tattoo shop door.

Yet he'd already walked down the two steps between us, standing close behind, and the next thing I caught was– nothing.

At least, nothing with my eyes as a black fabric was thrown over them, and each of my nerve endings grasped the movements of his long fingers in my curls, the warmth of his firm chest in my back, the depth of his breaths, and all the sparks emanating from the corner of his lips near my temple.

"I love you even more, Shooting star."

"Blade! Not again!" I whined, clearly not talking about his habit of always challenging me and saying he loved me more.

"If I want to surprise you again, I gotta blindfold you again." He smirked, well from what I guessed, as he didn't even let me lift the fabric an inch to show him my glare, his hands stopping mine. "And don't force me to tie you up."

He wouldn't... even hesitate, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he pulled out a rope.

Thus, I stilled my fingers and decided to use more reasonable arguments instead – at least, I tried.

"And how will I even ride without seeing anything." My eyes pinched closed even behind the blindfold as I realized the possible meaning behind my words, and I knew they were already twisting on his mischievous smile.

"Oh baby, I can guide your priceless butt for the ridess..." He, of course, proved it instantly, grasping my behind in a safe and tight squeeze, and I could do nothing but hold on to his shoulders as he carried me to wherever his motorcycle was.

"You're enjoying this too much!"

Actually, except for his devious enjoyment and the light tingles of mine around the flesh where his fingers were digging, I didn't see any other reason why he had me blindfolded when I had no idea where we were

The glimpse I'd got of the narrow street around the tattoo shop and the city name Ed had revealed to me while I'd been waiting for Blade hadn't given me any clue. It could have been anywhere.

So after a quick ride, where my only points of reference had been the humming of the engine, the suppositions crossing my mind, and the steady brushes of Blade's fingers on my thigh, all of that going too fast, we were now anywhere plus five minutes, or so.

Anywhere where the whoosh of passing cars on the highway wasn't far, but the ruffling of wind in the trees was closer. Anywhere where blades of grass tickled the top of my feet, exposed by my Mary Janes, almost as much as the curiosity in my insides, when he finally put me down.

Anywhere, but nowhere my suppositions could fit, while at the same time, a déjà vu was filling my sixth sense. Anywhere where the flick of a lighter annihilated the shiver of losing contact with his strong arms and sparked more excitement instead.

"Are you lighting up candles?" My eyebrows creased as if it could help me picture the scene behind the blindfold, yet the image of Blade bustling to prepare a romantic setting was improbable anywhere. "I thought the dangerous Blade Sayer didn't do plans and secret romantic dates?"

I still remembered his non-promises one year ago, when we'd just been two strangers in a parking lot somewhere, and now, here we were... his simple presence engraved in all my nerve endings, and his voice vibrating along them, from my ear to my ribcage.

"Only for you."

Upon these words, he removed the blindfold, and my heart leaped before my eyes could even adjust to the new brightness, skipping higher with each detail I caught through furious blinks and black dots... a white tent... candles... blankets... sweets... All the must-haves of a romantic date.

Though my heart really took off to another galaxy when I got the whole picture because this romantic date wasn't set just anywhere.

It was in a luxuriant park, where beyond the tall fence, a neon sign was peeking, and the letters 'M L's' were letting guess the grungy diner located on a deserted parking lot. So as I stood right at the entrance of the white tent, I was taken back one year ago at Ethel and Bobby's 10th anniversary.

Of course, the tent was much smaller, and there were no fairy lights. But the candles were arranged in various spots outside, inside, on the grass, hung around the bushes, with colorful candle holders, and a wooden branch sculpture to recreate the same milky way of dancing branches, colors, and starlights as I spun around.

It was even better because it was only for us, and the devilish grin my gaze settled on when I stopped twirling was more magical.

"It's the best surprise! Thank you so much!" I jumped at Blade's neck, everything still spinning around, although it didn't prevent me from capturing his parted lips with mine as my hand pulled him down towards me with no warning.

It surely wasn't the wisest thing to do when I hadn't recovered my breath from the shock. Yet I didn't know any other way to translate the erratic bangs of my heart, and the feverish caresses, passionate brushes of my tongue, sucking nips, breathless gasps, and unrelenting back-and-forths of my fingers through his hair barely came close to what was going through my chest.

He understood, nonetheless, quickly returning my 'thank you' with an even more ardent 'you're welcome' as he lifted me in his arms, deepening the kiss until the sparks flew around our tongues like the lights around the branch shadows, and the shreds of our breaths were consumed faster than the candles.

"Fuck, if I'd known you'd thank me like that, I would've planned romantic dates sooner!" He chuckled on my lips, our matching grins merely allowing a micro-inch of air between us as I rested my forehead on his, getting lost in the darkening blue waves of bad intentions.

"And I'm not finished." The corner of my lips pulled up with more wickedness, and his followed instantly, tickling me more.

"Oh, really?"

Another reason why our celebration was better than one year ago was that no one was there to interrupt as our mouths melted on each other.

Well, no one except Mother Nature, and if the first pats and drops on my shoulders were drowned out by the thrumming of my heart and the flames under our skins, she soon became more insistent.

"Fuck! Not again!"

I giggled as Blade threw his head back, the rain pouring all over us, and only when I followed his glare, did I notice how dark the sky was.

"Why's everyone against me?! Ruining this date again?!"

"Again?" My head lowered at the sound of this word, the contrast with my laugh making me plummet down on earth, and indeed his smile had fallen too. "Have you planned this date before?"

In the few months we'd been officially together, we'd had several dates, but between the police investigation, the snow, the house renovations, and our little star, we hadn't gone much out of Subrose, and I didn't remember him ever mentioning something like that.

"Yes, last year." His jaw ticked slightly, the tension discreet enough that I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been so close.

Here, however, I could feel it travel through my body as he tightened his arms around me like to protect me from the dark clouds, which ones though?

"The night of Douglas's death. You remember the surprise where I wanted to take you?"

I remembered, yes, every instant of this night, of the days after, the weeks, months, almost a year washing over me stronger than the torrential rain.

"That was here."

Almost a year, it had taken us almost a year to finally have this date, all the memories piling up in a bitter-sweet lump in my throat. Nevertheless, I swallowed them all at the sound of his sour chuckle.

"And tonight was supposed to be better. We had your telescope to stargaze and everything, and now... I guess that's why I can't do plans, dates, and all that romance stuff." He shook his head, the sharp lines of his gaze and jaw pointing up to the dark sky and the collapsing white fabric, and down to the last candles going out under the raindrops, the small cakes now crushed under a fallen side of the tent, and the blanket stained with mud at our feet.

And there were surely more. But it wasn't what I was focusing on as he put me back on my feet.

"You deserve better."

"No! There's nothing better for me. I said it: it's the best surprise, and it still is."

To be honest, I may have looked at the surroundings for an instant, yet it was blue I'd been seeing before the rain had started pouring, and it still was as I gazed up at him.

If I was shivering, it wasn't because of how drenched my clothes were; it was due to the tempestuous icy I was met with.

That shade was all too familiar; it was the one darkened by ghosts of his past, fooling him to believe he didn't deserve a happy ending.

There was just one thing he'd forgotten.

"Dorothy, you don't–"

"Shooting star. I'm a shooting star, remember?" My eyebrow and my chin rose proudly. "I'm not a princess. I think I've made it clear since the start. I didn't follow you for romantic landscapes, perfect dates, or plans.

"I want wishes, bad intentions, failed pancakes, ruined dresses, hot messes, and silly dancing."

As for stargazing, I hadn't given it up. I was already glimpsing dancing shadows, infinite blue, and sparks of light slowly ignited again under his cocked eyebrow.

"Speaking of... I have a little gift for you too." I stepped away to grab my bag, which he'd thankfully put on a dry spot under the tent.

"Shooting star, you didn't have to. It's your birthday."

"Yes, but it's also our anniversary." That argument silenced him instantly, along with the item I put in his palm, well, after rummaging through my purse and spilling half of its content to finally pull out a cube wrapped in blue gift paper, with a red bow standing messily on top.

Not that it mattered much when he ripped it all off, and his eyebrows jumped up and then down in front of the familiar wood lines he uncovered, his eyes a mix of awe and confusion, exactly like Stella's when we played peekaboo.

"Open it." I pointed at the hidden engraving on the side of the small chest as if he didn't remember, when he was the one who'd made it and had offered it to me the first time I'd stepped in his secret place. "It isn't weed but–"

"Blue Moon?!" His tricky fingers had already unlocked the box and even found the small handle to release the first notes of the familiar song before I could finish my sentence. "And it's us?"

"No, it's Ford Wels and Lucy Lucas running away. See, it's written here." I showed him with a less assured finger the inscription under the two figurines the open lid had revealed and the music was setting into motion.

Well, in their running position, they weren't going farther than their small infinity symbol trail, yet it was already dizzying as his eyes followed the red-haired girl hand-in-hand with the tenebrous boy, and I was hanging on his gaze, my insides spinning as much as the figurines between excitement and nervousness.

This song had never sounded so endless, and I was almost reaching out to close the box when the last note rang out, and his eyes snapped to mine.

"That. That's the best gift!"

"Really? You like it?"

"If I like it? Fuck, I love it!" he exclaimed, and in case those words and the sparkles now fully illuminating his gaze weren't enough, his lips stretched into a large and devious grin. "You've turned this chest into a music box with Lucy, Ford, and our song. I'll have to thank you properly for such a meaningful gift..."

"It's nothing," I replied coyly, even if there was a bit of truth in my words, as in comparison to all his surprises, this gift was nothing. "I didn't even make it myself because I don't know how to create anything with my hands."

"Oh, but baby, you can do so many other things with your hands." He took my fiddling fingers, lifting them to his lips and kissing the skin near the bandage, while his penetrating eyes pinned mine, annihilating any doubt and any thought.

I didn't even notice him winding up the music box and putting it safely on a bag until the aerial notes disrupted the uneven rhythm of my heart.

"And you can sing for me too."

"Now?" I laughed, my head still not wrapped around his contrasts and how sharply he could pass from wickedly spellbinding to breathtakingly sweet, or more exactly, how he could do both as he offered me an expectant nod, while his hands were less formal, wandering too low for me to find any voice.

I wasn't one to back away from a challenge, though, my voice rising in an uneven murmur. "Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone... Without a dream in my heart..."

"Without a love of my own," he echoed even more softly, so softly that I wouldn't have caught the quiet rasps if his hands in the lowest part of my lower back hadn't been melting me to him.

And then, it was the thuds of our hearts that chanted the 'Ba-dang-a-dang-dang' as I leaned my ear over his chest, and we danced silly.

Yes, we danced silly, as in slowly swaying in a narrow square between collapsing fabrics and the deluge outside wetting our skins from time to time, with our bodies glued together and our hands waltzing across any part they could reach, because we were crazy about each other.

There was no better way to celebrate, and I buried my head deeper into his chest, if possible, letting my soul get engulfed in sparks and the scent of leather, wood, vanilla, and... talc powder, which had replaced the sour smell of tobacco.

That was how far we'd come, and I could feel he relished the same thoughts as he smiled against my neck before I pulled away to dive into transparent and dark crystalline waves.

"Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone." I didn't get to finish when he clasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and his mouth languidly crashed on mine.

The rest of the lyrics passed through our lips as they danced to the rhythm still escaping the music box, and like always, our gestures meant more than a thousand words.

We even added new lines in a crescendo of kisses, where the sparks progressively became explosive fire. Brushes of lips became claiming teeth and surrendering moans, and the little breaths we had left reduced into whizzes of air through our noses, while the soft melody turned into a primal rumbling.

When we broke apart to breathe, I could even take how much the blue shine had darkened, and the clouds too, as the rain was escalating into a tempest.

"Let me zip up the tent 'cause a storm's coming."

I nodded, although I wasn't sure about which natural disaster he was talking about when he reluctantly let me go with a flash of his crooked smile, and my legs almost gave out in brewing desire.

The atmosphere was steamy and electric, inside and outside the tent, the faraway rumbling vibrating until my guts and alerting my senses that it could crack at any second – in the sky, of course, and I quickly averted my gaze from the strain in all his muscles as he took off his jacket and rolled off his shirt sleeves to secure the tent on every side.

"Do you need help?" My head peeked through the slit of the 'door', taking in the bolts of lightning on every side of the horizon, while Blade hammered more tent pegs in the muddy ground and cursed himself for not watching the forecast news.

Indeed, from the colors of the clouds, they had surely put weather warnings all over the state and through all the media, as it hadn't happened in a while.

"No, I'm already finished." He appeared in front of me with his knife and a hammer in hand, making me jump out of my stare at the threatening sky. "Come on, don't tell me the fierce Dorothy Duncan is scared of storms?"

"Oh, no." I shook away the goosebumps that had pearled on my skin, though my frown remained as I glanced once more at the horizon. "I was thinking that it'll be Stella's first storm, and we won't be here if she's scared."

"Don't worry. She's a little badass." Even if he offered me a confident smirk, I could see the waver of his dimple as he considered the thought, and it wasn't only me he was trying to reassure as he added, "And I trust Pete and Nellie to take care of her. And Meteorite too!"

"Yes, you're right." I smiled, especially imagining the raccoon posted at the foot of her cradle like a protective guardian, something he did every time he saw her, and I already knew that as soon as she would walk, these two would raise hell.

"I am, and tonight is only about Mommy and Daddy."

With the zip of the door and his Cheshire cat's grin, the steamy atmosphere was back and his bad intentions too.

I didn't even get to take off my shoes when he swooped me up in his arms bridal style to lead me to our bed, well, to the blankets and cushions one step away, while his hands were a little too adventurous for a 'romantic hold'.

It was messy as I clutched his neck, shuddering against the heat of his body and the cold dampness of his shirt, without even considering the droplets gliding down my chest as he kissed my shoulder.

"Oh no! You got me all wet! Take off your clothes." I realized my mistake instantly, my heart and all my nerves jumping to take in the pause of his lips on my skin before they ever so slowly stretched into a familiar grin.

But my brain wasn't as fast, and I was still stunned when he laid me down, his hooded eyes landing on my parted lips.

What could I even say when I was feeling the wetness leaking and throbbing down my pants?

My mouth was too parched anyway, as he leaned back on his heels, his kneeling figure dominating over mine.

"Oh Dorothea... you always have the words every man wants to hear," he taunted, his movements dangerously slow as he worked on his belt, every glide and tension of his muscles accentuated by the soaked clothes.

There was little left to the imagination, from the outlines of his hardness clutched in his black pants to the white, translucent shirt enhancing every line of abs and ink. And fuck, I did need his clothes off, both my hands rushing to help him with a little too much eagerness.

"Hey, be careful, Shooting star." If the faint soreness didn't stop me at first, he did, catching my fingers before the bandage could peel off. "Wouldn't want to mess up your tattoo. So keep your hand still."

Easier said than done, and while the sparkle in his eyes didn't make me regret getting this tattoo, I was questioning why I chose this spot. Sure, it was meaningful when our story had started with a wish and the touch of a hand, but how could I be careful with my fingers for several days? How could I be now?

My resolve would surely snap faster than the half-open buttons of his shirt as I tried to undo them with one hand, and all my focus was caught by the kisses he peppered along my jaw.

"Baby, I know something that could help," he called softly, as if reading my thoughts, or at least, my body, as his gaze flickered to my right hand hovering over his chest.

I could see through him too, though, and my eyes widened at his dimple.

"Remember when I suggested tying you up earlier?"

He didn't need to add anything else, his gestures unequivocal as he reached for the strip of black cloth that was too conveniently resting on his backpack before holding out his hand for me.

"Do you trust me?"

Like on our first encounter, he was leaving me the choice, his Cheshire cat's grin not dimming as my hand hesitated above the mesmerizing branch inks, and I pondered over the idea.

If I wasn't able to hold back my fingers when he'd barely touched me, it was surely the wisest thing to do.

But speaking truthfully, it wasn't the reasonable arguments that lead my hand in his. Like on our first encounter and all those times after, I was pulled in by the bad intentions twinkling in his smoldering gaze.

"You know I'm crazy."

"Right answer." He nipped on my earlobe, the brushes of his lips there distracting me from the wicked work of his fingers.

When he leaned away, the blindfold had already circled my wrists, and it turned into a strong restraint with every twist and pull, the smooth fabric contrasting with the tightness of the knots.

It was in moments like this, I was reminded of his gangster lifestyle and for what he must have used those kinds of ties before.

However, the acceleration of my pulse under his lips wasn't out of fear when he kissed my wrist and tested the tie that didn't budge. I trusted him entirely, and I was crazy too as he pushed me back down with my hands above my head.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes... taking off those wet clothes."

Except that it was mine he focused on, starting with my shoes, which he unbuckled slowly, while his pants stayed low and half-open on his hips, like his shirt on his taut chest.

Between the two, I had a perfect view of these V-lines, teasing me as much as his sly grin when he finally removed one shoe, leaving a languid kiss at the sole of my foot.

He was enjoying this too much, and I could do nothing but feel, feel the itch at the tip of my fingers, feel the tickles of his lips ascending along my ankle, and in the middle, feel the tingles of desire in my core.

They all intensified steadily until I was a ball of teeming electricity, and his mouth was only at the hollow of my knee.

There was not an inch of skin he missed along his way. Well, I was still wearing my pantyhose, although the thin fabric didn't tone down the fervor of his lips. On the contrary, they made it even more suffocating, clinging to my heated skin as my chest rose and fell faster and wider.

I was panting when he reached my hips.

"Blaade..." I arched as he slid the tights off in one swift motion, almost too swift in comparison with his previous languor.

Though the sight of him between my legs was sharper. The hazy crystalline matching and hovering over my bunched-up skirt was making my head spin, especially when he lightly kissed the top of my panties without breaking eye contact, and then, he pulled away, going back to my other shoe.

He took it off as slowly, repeating the same torture on this side, sans the flimsy fabric of my pantyhose standing in the way between his mouth and my overstrung nerves. Therefore, he had to hold firmly my ankles, probably sensing I would kick him otherwise.

I couldn't help it, just like the moans tumbling out of my mouth, as all my remaining control was used to keep my hands still.

It was already a tremendous effort as he climbed up my inner thigh, his teeth joining here and there along the sensitive skin. Especially there, closer and closer to where I needed him as he traced the side seam of my briefs.

"Mhm, gotta take these off too. They're soaked." His groan vibrated until the tip of my fingers, heightening the burn around my wrist as I yanked and pulled helplessly, fighting as much against the tie as against the urge prickling all my nerves.

Yet only one snapped when he dragged my panties down with his teeth, and I sat up, my arms coming down to hold on to something or keep him from leaning away again. I wasn't sure, and I would never know as he caught my wrists instantly.

"Baby, your hands." He cocked an eyebrow, the dangerous arch contrasting with the amusement dancing under. "Should've known it wouldn't stop you."

"I'm a Shooting star." Offering him a proud shrug, I leaned back down, illustrating my argument too well when my arms collided with something familiar and spongy.

"My hot mess!"

I didn't dare to glance up, but the sound of his laugh, the sugary scent reaching my nose, and the white cream his finger wiped off my forearm were obvious enough.

I'd wriggled more than I'd realized, and I'd crashed in my birthday dessert again.

"It recalls some memories... I'll never forget that girl with a gun in her hand and birthday cake on her boobs."

And I remembered too well the dangerous man who had brushed a trail off her chest. He was right in front of me, sucking the same finger, as thoroughly, and leaving me as breathless.

"If you'd known all the bad intentions that crossed my mind that day... What I wished to do..."

He'd already given me a nice glimpse then. However, now, there was nothing to hold his deviousness back, no gun, no fabric on my lower half as his dark gaze roamed along my figure, and not even an inch between us when he pressed his hips against my naked center. And oh, did I feel the bad intentions.

The other difference was also that I wasn't looking away as I mirrored his crooked smile.

"You can still do it. You're the evil genie."

CLIFFHANGER!!! It brings back some memories, doesn't it? 😈😉😂 But I won't make you wait one week this time! 😉

The next chapter is already there!

And before you go, don't forget to vote ⭐ and comment what you think of all these surprises so far? What's your favorite part?

It looks like an unforgettable birthday, right? 😏🌠

It's my birthday today, and I wish I had an evil genie like Blade lol!