Tara blew gently through cherry lips pursed in a chaste kiss.

The breath caught the delicate film held taut on the cheap plastic wand and it swelled and burst into swirls of pearly balls, which drifted away into the sunlight like Icarus on gossamer. Down they fell, drifting on light whispers. Some popped in midair, descending in a shower of sparkles; while others burst on the wall behind them, leaving a delicate ring of moisture like a mouth open in surprise.

Willow watched her lover, mesmerised by the dance of the spheres, there had to be magic in this moment.