The Wrong Number Of Love

Months later, Luna and Liam returned to the ridge where they had seen the northern lights. This time, there was no hesitation, no fear.

The lights shimmered above them, their colors more vivid than Luna remembered. She leaned into Liam, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"You know," Liam said, his voice teasing, "this is the part where we say something profound about love and the universe."

Luna laughed, her breath visible in the cold air. "How about this: I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I'm glad I'm here. With you."

Liam smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Good enough for me."

As the lights danced above, Luna felt a sense of peace she hadn't known in years. She didn't know what the future held, but for the first time, she was ready to face it—one step, one moment, one dance under the lights at a time.