"That's what the magic's for," she murmurs, but then she lets silence fall as she leans down into the kiss, drawing it out slow and languid between them. She rests her slight weight on top of him, her hands splayed across his shoulders, her body soft against his, warm through the thin material of his shirt.

She could see it, she thinks, maybe. She doesn't know what she really wants for herself when this is all said and done. She's not dwelling on it at the moment, but it's just starting to dawn on her that most of her interests are actually other people's, and most of the ones that aren't are things she's trying for the first time because she doesn't have many hobbies of her own.

But he wants her, and she likes him -- more than likes. She could be comfortable, she thinks. She could maybe be happy.