Cassandra is laying on her bed, a borderline delirious, impossibly happy smile on her face. Her phone is connected to the bluetooth speaker in her room and playing in the background is the playlist John had made for her. A mixed tape. He made her a modern mixed tape.


She’d mentioned it offhandedly, the fact that boys would ask her out in high school with awkward notes in her locker. But if they’d made a mixed tape, who knows? Maybe she’d have given them a shot. So, John made her a mixed tape. Her boyfriend made her a mixed tape.


Boyfriend. The word just makes her heart flutter. Is this how it was supposed to feel like as a teenager? This bubbly, giddiness and excitement? This is different from the kind she had felt before. The last time had been a whirlwind of passion and fire, but this is the kind of sweet romance that could give you a stomach ache.


You. Just you. Those words still hadn’t left her mind. She could just hear his voice repeating those words over and over again. Words she never thought he would have ever spoken. And of course, he had reminded her again in his text. ‘JY’. It had taken her a minute before realizing it and the moment she had, her heart could have exploded.


She’s still processing it, everything that happened. The sobbing, the kiss, the dance, falling asleep together, dreaming together. All of it. It seems completely unreal and she has to look back at her phone or listen to this playlist over and over again to remind herself that it is reality.


There were so many different ways she thought him discovering her feelings would turn out. In every circumstance, she imagined he’d reject her. Politely, but still, reject her. Only in little involuntary spurts of daydreams could she have taken the time to imagine what it would be like if her feelings were reciprocated. What it would be like for him to hold her, kiss her, whisper sweet nothings to her. They were just sweet daydreams. They weren’t supposed to be reality. Now they are reality. Sweet dreams couldn’t even compare to this.


Then there is this nagging in the back of her mind reminding her of how dangerous this is. Reminding her how dangerous it was the last time she went through this song and dance. This is a much different dance though and in much different circumstances. They’ll still have to hide it though, at least for as long as they can. It’ll be best that way, keep them safer a little longer. And the damn Ice Law demands it. Hide your love and hate. It protects her and it protects him. At least they’ll have moments they can sneak away from prying eyes, take moments to express their longing.


She closes her eyes and tries to remember that feeling of the warmth of falling asleep next to him again. It was already easy to miss, easy to crave. Slow. She can remember how to do slow, because he needs slow. Slow is fine. Slow means they get to enjoy every moment of sweetness along the way. Every new step just a little more precious.


Precious. Like this mixed tape. Because he made her a mixed tape. Her boyfriend made her a mixed tape.