Dorian Del Isla Lily Starfire -

Lily turned. Her eyes reflected the flower’s glow, turning them into two small, captured stars. “You told me once that starfire only burns if you fear it.”

And then she rose — not flying, not falling — simply becoming part of the night air, the starfire’s light bleeding into the constellations overhead. dorian del isla lily starfire

“You can’t hold a star, Dorian,” she whispered. “You can only follow it.” Lily turned

She lifted the starfire to her chest and pressed it against her heart. The light sank into her skin like water into sand. For a breath, the entire island went dark. Then Lily glowed — from the inside out — soft blue-white, like moonlight caught in a jar. “You can’t hold a star, Dorian,” she whispered

“Lily.”

Lily stood at the water’s edge, her bare feet pressed into the wet sand. In her hand, a single starfire bloom — phosphorescent, trembling, too bright for any earthly flower. Dorian had watched her pick it from the cliffside where nothing else grew.

“Then I’ll follow.”