two people bound by magic, sharing a small apartment, and constantly having their emotions monitored by a legally binding spell, Felix and Marissa were starting to do remarkably well—if "well" meant only three magical explosions in the past forty-eight hours and a minor incident involving a floating cat.
"You turned my cat into a balloon," Marissa said flatly as they both stared at Whiskers, who now bobbed gently against the ceiling, his fur puffed out like cotton candy.
"It wasn't me," Felix insisted, holding up his hands in surrender. "It was the toaster. I sneezed while the toast popped. Magic's been weird since our last 'emotion flare.'"
Marissa gave him a look. "What kind of sneeze turns a cat into a helium balloon?"
"A magical one?"
She exhaled sharply and grabbed her wand. "Hold the chair steady."
Felix obeyed while Marissa climbed up and gently tapped Whiskers with her wand, murmuring a reversal charm. The cat popped—gently—and landed in her arms with a tired meow.
Whiskers gave Felix a death stare, then leapt from Marissa's arms and slunk into the bedroom.
Felix frowned. "Even the cat's judging me now."
"I don't blame him," Marissa replied, hopping down. "You nearly turned me into a lamp yesterday."
"You were yelling at me," Felix protested. "My defense magic thought I was being threatened."
"Felix, I was yelling because you tried to enchant the fridge to talk."
"I thought it'd be useful!" he said. "Who wouldn't want a fridge that reminds you when the milk's about to go bad?"
Marissa walked into the kitchen, opening said fridge. "It called me a 'nutritional disappointment.'"
Felix paused. "Okay, maybe the charm backfired."
"Maybe? Felix, we are one stress away from summoning a demon by accident."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Which is why I've been thinking… maybe we should take a break. Go somewhere peaceful. You know, recharge our magical batteries, or whatever."
She turned slowly. "Felix. We can't leave the city."
"Technically," he said, pulling out a map, "we can't go more than thirty miles from each other, and we need to notify the Ministry if we cross magical borders. But I checked—and Widdershins Lake is only twenty-nine miles away."
Marissa stared at him. "You checked?"
"I called the Ministry's Vacation Compliance Bureau. A woman named Myrtle approved it. She sounded lonely."
"Felix!"
"Look, we need space," he said, earnestly. "Not from each other, just… from the chaos. The contract's still active, but if we're constantly setting things on fire or turning cats into parade floats, we're never going to survive until month six."
Marissa hesitated.
"And," Felix added, "I booked us a lakeside cabin. Two bedrooms. Separate beds. A full kitchen. Zero talking appliances."
That last one tipped the scales.
"Fine," she said. "But if this ends with you summoning a fish god or me getting turned into an eel—"
"I'll turn myself into a tree as penance," Felix said solemnly.
---
By sunset, they were packed. And by packed, Felix meant Marissa had carefully organized all her clothes, supplies, and charms, while he had thrown three T-shirts, a toothbrush, and a suspiciously glowing rock into a duffel bag.
"What's this?" Marissa asked, pulling out the rock as they stood by the door.
"That's Lucky Larry," Felix said proudly. "He keeps bad spirits away."
"It's humming with dark magic."
"Yeah, he works extra hard."
She stuffed it back into his bag. "Fine. If we die because of your weird rock, I'm haunting you."
"Deal."
---
The drive was… surprisingly peaceful. The enchanted car (on loan from Marissa's cousin, who ran a magical Uber service) only attempted to drive into a portal once, and Felix managed to disable the voice-activated music system before it could play another round of "Ballads for Banshees."
They arrived at the lakeside cabin just before midnight. It was nestled in a small grove of silver-leafed trees, glowing faintly under the moonlight. The lake shimmered in the distance, and the air smelled like pine and a little bit of stardust.
"This is… nice," Marissa admitted, stepping out of the car.
Felix beamed. "Right? No exploding furniture. No magical alarms. Just nature, peace, and possibly the occasional woodland spirit."
They unloaded quickly, each claiming a room, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt calm.
---
The next morning was even better.
Felix woke to the sound of birdsong—not sirens or alarms or magic fireballs. He stumbled into the kitchen to find Marissa already up, sipping tea and watching the lake.
"You made tea?" he asked.
She nodded. "The kettle didn't scream at me. I almost cried."
They laughed. A real, unforced laugh.
"Let's make a deal," Felix said, pouring himself a cup. "No magic today. Let's just… be normal."
Marissa raised her cup in toast. "To normal."
---
That lasted all of forty-three minutes.
"I told you not to feed the squirrels," Marissa snapped.
"I thought they were just friendly!" Felix protested, backing up as three glowing squirrels levitated acorns threateningly.
"They're ward squirrels, Felix! They guard this area!"
"How was I supposed to know they had badges?!"
The lead squirrel chittered menacingly, then released an acorn that exploded in glitter.
"Run?" Felix suggested.
"Run," Marissa confirmed.
They bolted back toward the cabin, squirrels in magical pursuit, leaving a trail of glowing pawprints and cursed confetti.
They made it inside just as one squirrel threw a miniature smoke bomb.
Felix slammed the door shut and turned to Marissa. "Okay. So maybe a little magic to ward off the squirrels."
She glared. "This is why we can't have nice things."
---
Despite the squirrel incident, the rest of the day was remarkably peaceful. They cooked lunch together, read books (Marissa actually napped, which was unheard of), and even played a magical board game that only tried to eat Felix once.
That evening, they sat outside watching the stars appear.
"I forgot what silence felt like," Marissa said quietly.
Felix looked over at her. "Same."
There was a pause. Not awkward. Just thoughtful.
"You know," Marissa said, "for all your chaos… this wasn't a bad idea."
Felix smirked. "High praise from the woman who once said I was a walking hazard."
"You are a walking hazard," she replied. "But apparently, one who makes good vacation plans."
They sat in companionable silence.
Felix was the first to speak again. "Do you ever wonder what happens if we actually make it to the end of this contract?"
Marissa looked up at the stars. "I try not to think about it."
"Why?"
"Because… I'm not sure what I'd choose."
Felix swallowed. "Stay married or get out?"
She nodded.
He took a breath. "If I had to choose today…"
She turned to him.
"I'd stay," he said simply.
Marissa blinked.
He rushed to explain. "I mean, not forever-stay, like, unless you wanted that, which, you know, maybe not—but just… right now, I'm not mad at it. At you. I like… this."
She didn't say anything for a long time.
Then finally, quietly, she said, "Me too."
And the magic between them pulsed, gentle and warm. No explosions. No sparks. Just peace.
---
But peace never lasted long.
They awoke the next morning to a magical official knocking on their door.
"Felix Reid and Marissa Walker?" the woman asked, dressed in a glowing teal robe and holding a crystal clipboard.
"Yes?" they answered in unison.
"You violated Clause 4B of the Binding Contract."
Felix blinked. "Which one is that?"
"Unauthorized interaction with protected magical wildlife. Specifically, local ward squirrels. You triggered an ecological disruption spell."
Marissa groaned.
"I'm issuing a minor fine and a Level 2 Magical Warning," the official continued. "And you are hereby required to complete one act of community magical service."
Felix raised a hand. "Like what?"
"Ward squirrel habitat restoration."
Marissa buried her face in her hands. "Why is this our life?"
Felix tried to smile. "Because the universe has a sense of humor?"