As the wagon crested the final hill, Paola leaned forward, her golden-flecked eyes widening as the full beauty of Poca’s farm spread out before them. The sight was stunning—a vivid contrast of colors and textures that seemed to blend effortlessly into the landscape. Rolling green and golden hills stretched out in every direction, with patches of tall grasses growing from the sand like nature’s own work of art. Dotted throughout the fields were vibrant wildflowers in purples, blues, and yellows, their delicate petals swaying in the light breeze. In the distance, rocky mountains rose against the horizon, their jagged peaks softened by the glow of the late afternoon sun.
The farm itself seemed to nestle into the hills like it had always belonged there. The main house, with its moss-covered roof and walls of clay and wood, stood at the heart of it all. It looked almost like an extension of the land, as if Poca had coaxed the very earth to rise and form a shelter around her. Vines crept up the sides of the house, their leaves glistening with drops of dew, even in the dry air. A small orchard lay to the side, trees heavy with ripe fruit, their branches hanging low as if bowing in welcome. Beyond that, the garden sprawled with rows of vegetables, herbs, and magical plants that hummed with faint energy. Here and there, scarecrow-like figures—Poca’s puppets—stood guard over the fields, their wooden bodies casting long shadows as the sun dipped lower.
Paola couldn’t help but smile as she watched Poca’s shoulders visibly relax. The puppet woman let out a small, relieved sigh, the tension that had been building up on their journey melting away now that she was home. It was clear that Poca’s connection to this land was as deep as the roots of the trees that grew here. She was in her element, and it showed.
“This… this is beautiful,” Paola whispered, her tail flicking slightly as she took it all in. The fields, the colors, the sense of peace—it was so different from the bustling city of Valarian, and yet it felt just as full of life.
Poca, sitting beside her, beamed with pride. “Oui, ma chère. It is 'ome, and I am glad to see zat everything is still in good condition.” She glanced over at the garden, where the plants sat in stasis, thanks to the landlock root she had buried before she left. “Zanks to ze root, of course. Keeps ze land as it was. No dying, no growing. Just… waiting.”
The wagon rolled down the dirt road leading to the house, the wheels crunching softly against the sandy soil. When they finally reached the front of the house, Carter was the first to hop down from his seat, his wooden frame creaking slightly as he began to unload the surprising amount of supplies Poca had managed to gather on their journey. Boxes of herbs, tools, and materials were stacked neatly beside the wagon, and Carter, ever diligent, began carrying them into the house without so much as a word.
Poca, clearly excited to show everyone around, jumped down from the wagon with a bounce in her step. She turned to the group with a wide grin, her mismatched eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Come, come!” she called, waving them forward. “Let me show you ze farm! It is ze pride of my family, you know.”
Paola hopped down from the wagon, followed closely by Yasmin, whose curiosity was piqued by the sight of the magical plants and wooden puppets scattered around the property. Selene, as usual, kept her distance, her dark eyes flicking between the others as she stuck just behind Paola and Yasmin. Her expression was difficult to read, but Paola sensed that she was both intrigued and wary.
As they walked, Poca pointed out various features of the farm, her voice brimming with excitement. “Zis is ze orchard,” she said, gesturing toward the rows of fruit trees. “Apples, pears, and a few enchanted trees zat bear magical fruits. Zey are hard to grow, but zey are worth it. Zey are good for potions, healing spells, and even enhancing ze strength of ze crops.”
Paola glanced at the trees, her eyes lingering on one that seemed to glow faintly, its leaves shimmering with a soft silver light. She couldn’t help but marvel at the way magic and nature intertwined here, as if they were two halves of the same whole.
“And zere,” Poca continued, leading them toward the garden, “is where I grow my herbs and vegetables. I have ze usual—carrots, potatoes, tomatoes—but also some rarer herbs, like Sunroot and Honeytail. Zey take a bit of extra care, but zey are essential for my work.”
The garden itself was a patchwork of vibrant greens, with rows of neatly tended plants and flowers that hummed with magical energy. Paola bent down to inspect a cluster of glowing flowers, their petals a deep blue that seemed to pulse with life. She could feel the faint hum of magic in the air, and it made her skin tingle.
Yasmin, ever curious, leaned in beside her. “What kind of magic do these hold?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.
Poca grinned, clearly pleased by Yasmin’s interest. “Zese flowers are used for enhancing elemental spells, particularly those involving air and water. Zey have a natural affinity for wind magic, which is why zey grow so well out 'ere in ze open air.”
Yasmin nodded thoughtfully, reaching out to gently brush her fingers against one of the petals. “Impressive. I could see these being useful in battle. Maybe I should start growing a garden of my own.”
Poca chuckled. “Perhaps! But you must have ze patience for it. Magic is like nature—it takes time to grow.”
They continued walking through the garden, Paola feeling a sense of peace settle over her as she took in the sights and smells. The sun was lower in the sky now, casting a warm, golden light over the land. It made everything look even more magical, as if the entire farm was bathed in a soft glow.
As they reached the far end of the garden, Poca turned to Selene, her voice teasing. “Everything is just as you remembered it, no? Ze garden, ze orchard, ze puppets… I keep zis place running like clockwork, even when I’m away.”
Selene gave her a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. “It’s… the same,” she said, her voice low. There was no hint of humor in her tone, but Poca, ever cheerful, seemed unfazed.
“Well, zat is good to know,” Poca said with a wink, her tone playful. “I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed after all zis time.”
Selene didn’t respond, but Paola noticed the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was brief, but it was there, and Paola couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory. Selene was hard to crack, but even she wasn’t immune to Poca’s infectious energy.
As the tour came to an end, Poca clapped her hands together, her eyes shining. “Well, zat is ze farm! I hope you all enjoyed ze tour. Now, let’s head back to ze house and get settled. We have much to do, and I want to show you more of what I’ve been working on.”
Paola, Yasmin, and Selene followed her back toward the house, the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows behind them. As they walked, Paola found herself feeling more at ease than she had in days. There was something about this place—Poca’s farm, her enthusiasm, the magic that seemed to pulse in the very air—that made her feel like everything might just be okay.
As they reached the house, Paola glanced over at Poca, who was practically bouncing with excitement. The relief of being home, of seeing her farm in perfect condition, was written all over her face.
As they stepped through the front door of Poca’s home, Paola was immediately struck by the distinct, cozy atmosphere that seemed to envelop the entire space. The air was filled with the earthy scent of herbs drying on bundles hanging from the ceiling, mixed with the faint metallic tang of freshly worked metal and wood. The walls were a warm, muted green, adorned with shelves that seemed to overflow with jars of seeds, bottles of oils, and various tools for both gardening and puppetry. Dried flowers and vibrant herbs hung in bunches from the rafters, their petals and leaves brushing lightly against Paola’s head as she walked in. It gave the space a witchy, bohemian vibe that Paola couldn’t help but find endearing.
The first room they entered was an open living area, spacious yet filled with an eclectic mix of furniture and items that reflected Poca's dual passions for gardening and puppetry. A large couch, clearly well-used and a little worn, took up the center of the room, its fabric covered in a patchwork of blankets and pillows. Several small wooden tables were scattered around, each one littered with tools, sketches, and half-finished puppet limbs—delicate hands, carved heads, and gears, all in various stages of completion. There were also bits and pieces of gardening equipment—small trowels, packets of seeds, and gardening gloves—seemingly left in the middle of projects.
Paola glanced at the couch, noticing how it had a slight indentation as if someone had spent countless nights sleeping there. Poca must have noticed her gaze because she gave a small, sheepish smile. “Ah, yes. Zat is where I sleep most of ze time. I have a proper bed upstairs, but ze couch is so comfortable. It is close to my work, and... well, you see how it is.”
Paola smiled softly, finding it charming how the couch had become Poca's unofficial bed. The puppeteer was clearly someone who lived and breathed her craft, and her home reflected that. Organized but chaotic, with a certain warmth to it. There was something incredibly homey about it all, despite the clutter of half-finished projects.
As they moved through the living area, Paola took in more of the details. The walls were lined with shelves, each one packed with books on gardening, puppetry, magic, and other assorted topics. Some were neatly stacked, while others were piled haphazardly, as if Poca had grabbed them in the middle of a project and hadn’t had time to put them back. There was a large, sunlit window that overlooked the garden, and hanging from it were wind chimes made of tiny metal gears and wooden pieces, tinkling softly in the breeze.
In the corner of the room was a large workbench, covered in wood shavings and metal scraps. Poca’s tools were meticulously arranged—chisels, saws, and delicate engraving tools, all lined up and ready for use. Above the bench, hanging from a pegboard, were even more puppetry parts—intricate joints, gears, and miniature mechanical pieces, some of which glowed faintly with magical energy.
Paola couldn't help but be fascinated by it all. It was messy, sure, but it was the kind of mess that spoke of creativity and passion. Every item seemed to have a purpose, even if it wasn't currently in use. The room was alive with the sense that something was always being created, something new was always growing.
Poca led them into the kitchen next, and Paola was surprised by how tidy it was compared to the rest of the house. The countertops were clean, with herbs drying in small bundles on the windowsill and neatly labeled jars of spices and teas stacked on a shelf. The stove was old-fashioned, with a cast-iron kettle simmering on top, filling the room with the faint scent of chamomile. A small wooden dining table sat in the center of the room, adorned with a simple vase of wildflowers that looked freshly picked.
“Ze kitchen, at least, I try to keep clean,” Poca said with a grin. “I do love to cook, but mostly simple things. Lots of herbs and vegetables from ze garden, of course.”
Paola could see that, much like the rest of the house, the kitchen was a blend of practicality and charm. There were woven baskets hanging from the ceiling, filled with garlic and onions, and a row of small ceramic pots filled with fresh herbs on the windowsill. It was cozy and warm, and Paola could easily picture Poca here, whipping up meals with ingredients straight from her garden.
After showing them the kitchen, Poca gestured toward the stairs that led to the second floor. “Upstairs, I have ze bedrooms. Two spares, though I don’t often have guests. And my room, but as I said, I sleep down 'ere most of ze time.”
Paola nodded as they ascended the narrow staircase, the wood creaking softly beneath their feet. The upstairs was much cleaner and more organized than the downstairs, with a simpler, more minimalist design. The two spare rooms were small but well-kept, each with a neatly made bed, a small dresser, and a window that looked out over the rolling hills. The rooms had a quaint, almost rustic feel to them, with simple wooden furniture and soft linen curtains. Paola could tell they were rarely used, but they were ready for guests whenever the need arose.
Poca’s own room was similarly simple. A large, four-poster bed with a patchwork quilt sat against one wall, and a small desk with a stack of papers and books stood by the window. Unlike the living area, there were no half-finished projects or scattered tools here—just a peaceful, quiet space. Paola noticed a small, carved wooden bird sitting on the windowsill, its wings outstretched as if ready to take flight. It was a delicate, intricate piece, and Paola could tell it held special meaning to Poca.
“Zis is where I sleep,” Poca said, though she gave a small laugh. “Or where I should sleep. But ze couch is much closer to ze workshop, and I tend to stay up late, working on new projects.”
Paola smiled, imagining Poca tinkering away at her workbench late into the night. The house, with all its little imperfections and charms, felt like an extension of Poca herself—creative, lively, and full of energy.
As they descended the stairs and made their way back into the living room, Poca couldn’t resist poking fun at Selene once more. “Everything is as you remembered, no? Ze same chaos, ze same magic,” she teased, her mismatched eyes twinkling.
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Selene, who had been trailing behind the group the whole time, gave a small nod, her face still set in that same brooding expression. “It’s the same,” she muttered, though Paola caught the tiniest flicker of a smile on her lips.
Poca, ever the enthusiastic host, clapped her hands together. “Well, now zat you have seen ze house, we can settle in! Make yourselves at home, everyone. Zere is plenty to do around here, or you can simply relax. Whatever you prefer.”
Paola, Yasmin, and Selene exchanged glances, each of them clearly taking in the homey, witchy atmosphere that seemed to permeate every inch of Poca’s world. Paola couldn’t help but feel at ease here, surrounded by the warmth and creativity of Poca’s home. It was different from anything she’d ever known, but it felt right.
As Carter continued unloading supplies outside, Paola took a deep breath, letting the soothing energy of the place wash over her. This, she thought, was a place where she could truly rest. And after all the chaos and danger they had faced, that was exactly what they all needed.
As they stepped out of Poca’s home and into the cool, open air, Paola could feel the difference in the land around them. There was something vibrant and alive about the place now that Poca had returned. Her feet sank slightly into the soft earth as she walked beside the others, helping Carter and Poca unload the supplies from the wagon.
Poca, ever the lively spirit, had a spring in her step as she led them toward the garden, her voice light and teasing as she spoke. "Now zat I am home," she called back with a mischievous grin, "I should warn you all... once I uproot ze landlock root, I’ll be losing my clothes until I need zem again."
Yasmin, who had been quietly observing the farm, suddenly looked startled, her face flushing a bright red. "Wait, what?" she stammered, clearly not expecting such a casual declaration.
Paola chuckled, finding Poca’s playful nature even more charming now that they were back at her home. "Oh, Yasmin, you didn’t know? Poca and I... we’re a bit freer about these things."
Poca laughed, reaching down and gently pulling the landlock root from the earth, holding it up for all to see. "Exactly! No need for clothes when ze land breathes with you. Besides, I zink my garden prefers me zis way."
Yasmin blinked, clearly trying to process everything. Paola, seeing her friend's discomfort, gave her a gentle nudge. "Don't worry, Yasmin. You’ll get used to it."
For the next couple of hours, they worked alongside Carter, moving supplies around and organizing the various things Poca had collected throughout her journey. The air was fresh, the sun warm but not overbearing, and the land itself seemed to pulse with a quiet energy. Paola took her time to get a real feel for the farm—its rolling hills, the patches of trees that dotted the landscape, and the golden grasses that swayed in the light breeze. She felt connected to this place, like the earth beneath her feet welcomed her.
Carter, as silent and efficient as ever, tended to the oxen, leading them to a small stable by the edge of the garden. He moved with mechanical precision, never once breaking his fixed, friendly smile as he put the wagon away and began securing everything for the night.
As they finished their tasks, Selene, who had been quiet the entire time, approached Poca, her face unusually serious. “Can we speak, Poca? Alone,” she asked, her voice soft but firm.
Paola, picking up on the mood, smiled and stepped in before Poca could respond. “I could use a bath after all this. What do you think, Yasmin?”
Yasmin, still looking a little flustered, stammered, “I-I can wait, you know, I don’t have to—”
Poca, never one to miss a chance to tease, interrupted with a knowing grin. “Non, Yasmin, it is okay! Go bathe with Paola. It is ze perfect time to relax after all ze work.”
Paola winked at Yasmin, tugging her lightly by the arm as they headed toward the bathhouse. "Come on, Yasmin. You’ll love it."
Poca pointed them in the direction of the bathhouse, a small walk down a gentle grassy slope toward the river. Paola could feel the sun on her skin, the breeze against her cloak, and the soft earth beneath her feet as they made their way through the field. The bathhouse was a simple but charming structure nestled by the riverbank, with wooden beams and large open windows that let in the fresh air. The soft sound of the river flowing nearby added a calming rhythm to the atmosphere.
When they stepped inside, the space was warm and inviting. The bathhouse had an earthy, rustic charm, with stone floors that held the heat from the river stones beneath. There was a large, shallow pool in the center, its water steaming pleasantly from the warmth provided by natural cinder stones placed carefully around the edges. Shelves lined the walls, holding soapstones and soft towels made of woven natural fibers. The air smelled of lavender and fresh herbs, a comforting blend that Paola instantly found soothing.
Without hesitation, Paola shrugged off her cloak, letting it fall to the floor as she stepped toward the pool. She dipped a toe into the water, testing it, and smiled at the pleasant warmth. “Oh, this is perfect,” she sighed, wading in up to her waist before turning to Yasmin, who was still standing at the edge, clearly nervous.
Yasmin’s crimson wings fluttered nervously behind her, her amber eyes darting around the room. "I don’t... I mean, I’m not sure if—"
Paola grinned, teasing her. "Come on, Yasmin. You’ve been so lively up until now. What’s holding you back?"
Yasmin blushed furiously, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her leather armor. "It’s just... I’m not... used to this."
Paola chuckled, her golden-flecked eyes twinkling. "I’ll turn around, okay? I won’t look."
Yasmin opened her mouth to protest, but Paola had already spun around, facing the opposite direction as she waved playfully over her shoulder. "Take your time."
Paola’s ears twitched as she listened, picking up the soft sounds of Yasmin’s armor hitting the floor, followed by the rustle of her clothes. A few moments later, she heard the unmistakable splash of Yasmin clumsily entering the water.
When Paola turned back around, Yasmin was sitting with the water up to her shoulders, her face still red as she tried to hide behind her wings. Paola giggled, settling herself across from Yasmin in the pool. "See? Not so bad, right?"
Yasmin huffed, clearly still flustered. "I guess... it’s not so bad."
Paola reached for one of the soapstones sitting on the edge of the pool and began scrubbing her skin, the rough stone creating a rich lather that smelled of fresh herbs. She worked it over her arms and shoulders, enjoying the sensation of the warm water and the soft scent. "You should try this," she said, offering Yasmin the soapstone with a grin.
Yasmin, still looking like she wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation, reached out hesitantly and took the soapstone from Paola. Her wings fluttered again as she began to clean herself, her movements slow and unsure at first but gradually becoming more relaxed.
Paola leaned back in the pool, feeling the tension of the past few days melt away. It was peaceful here, in this quiet little bathhouse by the river. The warm water, the soft breeze drifting through the windows, the sound of the river nearby—it all felt so serene.
She glanced over at Yasmin, who was now washing her arms with the soapstone, her wings resting against the surface of the water. Paola smiled to herself, feeling a warmth in her chest as she watched Yasmin slowly begin to relax. It was nice, sharing this quiet moment together.
Paola leaned back into the bank of the bathhouse pool, feeling the warm water splash just under her chin. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the soothing heat work its way into her muscles. Across from her, Yasmin was still awkward, slowly working her way through the motions of cleaning herself. She seemed hesitant, as if unsure what to do in this quiet, intimate setting.
Paola, wanting to break the tension, began to make conversation. "So," she said casually, "you mentioned your sister before. What's she like?"
Yasmin glanced up, her wings fluttering slightly behind her as she processed the question. "Her name is Yucca," she said, her voice soft but steady. "She’s on a mission here in Valarian, but... well, I can’t really say what it’s about. You know, for obvious reasons."
Paola chuckled, shaking her head. "I don’t need to know those things. Just tell me what you can tell me."
That seemed to relax Yasmin a little. She began scrubbing her arms, her movements becoming less tense as she spoke. "Yucca's a bit of a hard ass, you know? But what else are older sisters for, right?"
Paola felt her heart thump in her chest at the mention of sisters. Her mind flickered back to thoughts of her own sisters back on Earth. She quickly expelled the thought, forcing herself to stay present with Yasmin. This was not the time to get lost in memories.
"Yeah," Paola said with a small smile, "I get that."
Yasmin continued, her voice becoming more animated. "She’s a straight shooter. It’s hard to make her laugh, but she’s fun in her own way. You just... have to know her."
Paola grinned, teasing gently. "Sounds a little like Selene, doesn’t it?"
Yasmin laughed, but it wasn’t a full, carefree laugh. "Kind of, but Yucca’s a bit more bubbly—when she wants to be, anyway."
Paola tilted her head, laughing softly. "More bubbly? Now that’s something I’d like to see."
Yasmin chuckled, but there was something else behind her laugh—a hint of tension, maybe a bit of vulnerability. "Yeah, I guess. Me, though... I’m definitely the more carefree one between us."
Paola laughed and nodded. "Yeah, that’s been pretty obvious," she said with a playful grin.
Yasmin laughed too, but this time, it felt heavier. She paused for a moment, her wings giving a small flutter behind her, before she spoke again, more quietly. "The thing is... being carefree isn’t always easy. My sister and I, we’re each other’s best friends, but sometimes it’s hard. She’s so goal-focused, so straightforward about everything. It’s like, no room for... anything else."
Paola watched her for a moment, sensing that Yasmin was building up to something deeper. She didn't push, letting the other woman speak in her own time.
Yasmin’s hands moved nervously through the water, her voice growing more frustrated. "I’ve never even... dated anyone. Yucca’s always been so... focused, and I’ve just been..." She gestured awkwardly toward Paola, her amber eyes flicking over her, and Paola raised an eyebrow.
"Me?" Paola asked, her curiosity piqued.
Yasmin blushed, a deep red that spread across her cheeks as she shrugged, her wings twitching. Her face squished up with embarrassment as she stumbled through her words. "Hanging out with you all... it’s been fun. Really fun, but it’s also made me realize some things."
Paola could sense where this was heading. She let out a small laugh, trying to keep things light. "So... are we going to address this then?"
Yasmin’s amber eyes were wide with a mix of emotions, and her voice cracked slightly as she practically cried out, "Why not? We’re naked in a river! When else would be the time?!"
Paola couldn’t help but laugh at Yasmin’s outburst, though it was a laugh filled with awkwardness and a touch of sympathy. She gave a small shrug. "Okay, okay. Let’s talk."
The two of them sat in the warm water, the only sound coming from the gentle splashing as Yasmin fidgeted nervously. Paola’s heart pounded as she waited, trying to give Yasmin the space to say what she needed to.
Yasmin finally spoke, her voice quieter now. "Being around you... it’s been different. Fun, yeah, but also... more than that." She paused, biting her lip. "I’ve... I’ve caught feelings for you."
Paola felt her heart skip a beat. Her mind spun with thoughts, racing through a thousand questions at once. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she forced herself to stay calm, to think things through.
"What about Poca and Ayla?" Paola asked, her voice soft but steady. "You know I’m with them."
Yasmin sighed, the tension in her wings showing just how conflicted she was. "I know," she said quietly, looking away for a moment. "That’s what makes it so awkward. I don’t want to mess things up between you three. But I also... I can’t help how I feel."
Paola watched her, unsure what to say. Yasmin’s amber eyes found hers again, this time filled with a raw honesty that left Paola feeling vulnerable herself.
"Are you sure?" Paola asked gently, her voice almost a whisper. "Are you sure about how you feel?"
Yasmin didn’t hesitate. Her gaze locked onto Paola’s, and she nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said, her voice firm. "I’m sure."
Paola stared back, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t seen this coming, but now it was here, and she had to figure out what it meant.
She took a deep breath, her heart still pounding in her chest, and said the only thing that made sense to her in that moment. "Yasmin... I care about you. I really do. But this... this is something I need to think about."
Yasmin nodded, her expression softening. "I understand," she said quietly, her wings drooping slightly as if releasing some of the tension. "I just... I needed to tell you."
Paola smiled gently, leaning forward slightly. "I’m glad you told me, Yasmin. But you know," she added, her voice lightening with a playful tone, "you didn’t have to wait until we were naked in a river to do it."
Yasmin blinked, her face turning red again as she splashed the water in mock frustration. "Well, it seemed like the perfect moment!" she said, laughing despite herself. "When else am I going to confess something like this? Fully clothed and in normal circumstances? Nah, that’s not my style."
Paola laughed, splashing some water back at her. "Yeah, definitely not your style. You prefer chaos, remember? The more dramatic, the better."
Yasmin grinned, her wings giving a little flutter as she finally relaxed. "What can I say? I like to keep things exciting."
Paola leaned back into the water, letting it rise up to her chin as she tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. "You’re lucky I find your chaos charming."
Yasmin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, do you now? I knew it! You totally like me."
Paola snorted, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin. "Okay, okay, let’s not get carried away."
"Oh, we’re already there," Yasmin shot back, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You can’t resist my charm. Just admit it, Paola."
Paola flicked water in Yasmin's direction, making her laugh and try to shield herself. "Alright, alright, you’ve got me! But don’t go getting any ideas, okay? I’m already dealing with enough with Poca and Ayla."
Yasmin pretended to pout, folding her arms over her chest and giving a dramatic sigh. "Fine, I’ll settle for being the charming disaster in your life. For now."
Paola’s laughter filled the air, and she splashed Yasmin again. "Charming disaster? Yeah, that’s definitely you."
They both laughed, the tension from earlier evaporating into the warm air. Yasmin, still red but more at ease now, shook her head, flicking some water back at Paola. "I’m glad you don’t hate me for, you know, catching feelings."
Paola gave her a warm, teasing smile. "How could I hate you? You’re like an overgrown butterfly with a fireball fetish."
Yasmin burst into laughter, her wings fluttering in excitement. "Wow, Paola, I’m gonna start using that as my tagline."
Paola winked. "You should. It’s catchy."
The conversation flowed easily after that, the awkwardness gone and replaced with the familiar banter they had always shared. Yasmin’s smile was genuine, and Paola couldn’t help but feel lighter as they continued to joke and splash around in the water.
At one point, Yasmin, feeling bolder now, leaned forward with a grin. "You know, I could always try to win over Poca and Ayla too. Make it a complete set."
Paola choked on her laugh, splashing water in her face. "Oh, you’re going to be real busy if you try that! I’m not sure you could handle them both."
Yasmin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Who says I couldn’t? I’m more powerful than I look, you know."
Paola chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, I know. Trust me, I know. But let’s not test those waters just yet."
They both shared another round of laughter, the playful banter continuing until the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the river. For now, everything felt lighter, and Paola was grateful for the easy way they could laugh about it all—even the awkward confessions.
As they finally settled into a peaceful rhythm, Paola looked over at Yasmin, her voice soft but teasing. "You know, this was actually kinda nice. Maybe we should have these heart-to-heart talks more often."
Yasmin smiled, leaning back in the water with a sigh. "Yeah. I guess being naked in a river isn’t the worst place for it after all."
Paola grinned. "See? You’re learning."