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It seemed like the Star Festival was destined to be a turning point in Misha's relationship with Nissa. A few years ago, Misha had watched the stars fall with her by his side and he realized, with stunning and terrifying clarity, that Nissa was more than just another woman to him. At the time, he hadn't really known what that meant. Not in the forefront of his mind, really, but it was there, like a seed just below the surface. And now, two years later, that seed had finally breached the soil, stretching for light.

Misha just hoped that he wasn't too late with it, as he had been so many other times with so many other important things.

He loved Nissa. He loved her and that was new and it was frightening and it was exhilarating. He thought he had been in love before. A stream of men and women before Nissa who suddenly paled. Paled and withered because that wasn't love, not really. It had been something close in some cases and blind lust in others, but not this. Not whatever set Misha's nerves on end in the best possible way. And suddenly he understood his sister and her endless pining for a woman that she had literally married. Why she lamented every moment spent apart. Nissa felt too far away even if she was getting closer with every passing second.

Misha clutched his gift in his pocket, the gold star charm and the cinnamonroll keychain. The key they were both attached to. Around him fireflies blinked to life like a grounded mimicry of the meteor shower from years ago.

While Nissa maintained her cool, something that Misha forever marvelled over, he made no such attempts. He watched his sister be a total dork over her wife, and over time he'd decided that he could be the same with his girlfriend. And that was freeing, not feeling weird or juvenile when Nissa appeared and he let that goofy, lopsided smiled that he usually hated split his face. Usually hated. Because when Nissa inspired it, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but fond. How could anything that woman brought forth be anything short of wonderful? And that included Misha's dorky-a** smile and the breathy chuckle that came along with it.

Nah, Nissa could be cool and suave for the both of them. He was stupid for her, and he was more than happy to let that be known, whether he was watching her dance or skate, following her along on one of her adventures, or trying his best to match her at whatever she wanted to compete with him in. He'd stare at her, slack-jaws and with stars in his eyes, bow to her skill (sometimes literally) when she bested him and thank her for going easy on him when he won. He would look over at whomever was with him while she was showing off and say, "that's my girl," and almost not believe it. Because... how and why? Misha was so boring. He was a civil engineer who played Sim City on his off hours. And Nissa was a shooting god damned star.

"It's alright," he answered, pulling said comet in close to him by the waist, "not nearly are gorgeous as this figure skater I saw at the rink the other day. Now she..." he clicked his tongue in lieu of using his words. "She was what the word was coined for. Should have seen her Nissa." He settled his hands at the dip of her waist, crowding into her space and nudging her cheekbone with his nose. "She had these legs," he murmured against the soft skin at the join of her jaw. "God, they went of for days. And this a**, I mean..." He whistled lightly. "And the way she skated... I could just tell, you know? She's a brat, and all I wanted to do was take a firm hand to that perfect little butt."

He gave her a sharp little pat, driving his point home, and then with immeasurable tenderness in his voice, nearly gushed, "you looked amazing out there, baby girl. I forgot how to breath a few times."

"I mean... you could probably botch the whole thing and I'd still think it was perfect. Either because it's you, and I am of the unbiased and true opinion that you are perfect," he punctuated the statement by giving in to his urge to kiss her, pressing softly against the perfect pillow of her lips. And urge that pressed at his ribcage from within whenever they were together and most of the time they were apart. Because kissing Nissa was an awakening. Whether glossed with his favorite strawberry-flavored lip gloss or dry first thing in the morning. It was one of Misha's favorite things to do. And because Nissa allowed him... because she, against all odds and better logic, chose him and kept choosing him every single day, he gave into that urge as often as humanly possible.

"But it could also be because I don't know the first thing about skating," he finished, lips still against hers. Which... okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Int he years that they'd been together, Misha had picked up a fair bit of knowledge. He knew the terms of the most common tricks, he knew when Nissa was off her game (though maybe that was a perk of their intimacy...) and he knew when he saw a stunt that didn't land properly. Granted, he couldn't tell why it didn't land correctly, and he couldn't really give advice on how to fix it, but still... he had a point to make.

"And, um... speaking of... skating," and Misha laughed despite the growing heat in his cheeks. Shuffled his feet a little and buried his face in Nissa's hair to ground himself in the scent of her shampoo. Around them, small pinpoints of life blinked on and off, fading in and out of existence. Misha closed his eyes against the outside world and his anxiety and anchored himself in the scent of the woman he loved... the woman who, against all odds, loved him back. Recreated the slow, rhythmic blinking of the fireflies off and on to his inhales and exhales.

"I um... I put up a hook by the door. for your skates, that is," he began softly, pulling his hand form Nissa's waist to reach into his pocket. "And I added a table to the otherside of the bed. And I cleared out half of the vanity in the bathroom and... um..." He slowly pulled the keychain from his pocket and pulled away from Nissa just enough to hold it between them, "I was wondering if... you might... fill those things. In a kind of a... kind of a full time... permanent... sort of way..."