Three knocks, a pause, and then four more, the tell-tale rhythm they’d agreed upon. A little slot opened in the wooden door; from inside, a voice, a hushed whisper.

“I am here.”

“We will not be forgotten,” she replied. The door opened, just a crack, and she was quickly ushered into a small room. It was modestly furnished; a bed, a small armchair, a side table, and a small work desk. On the work desk stood a laptop.

“Is it done?” asked the witch, shaking the water off her raincoat. She took it off, and chucked it haphazardly onto the nearby armchair.

“It’s done. Well… mostly,” said the other. They tapped away at the keyboard. “Care to take a look?”

Outside, the rain hammered down.

The witch moved to the computer, and her partner stepped aside to let her pass. She quickly skimmed the code, and the string of words that accompanied it. “Just one sec,” she muttered, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Her partner peered over her shoulder, curious. “You’re… moving that to the top of the list? Why?”

“Reasons,” she replied coyly.

Outside, the rain beat down harder. A low rumble.

The witch yawned, stretching. “You’ve made the call?” she asked, casually.

As if it were nothing.

“...Yes.” They sounded hesitant, shaken. Then, suddenly, they stepped forward, embracing her.

“I love you.” A single tear rolled down their cheek.

“I know,” said the witch.

The sound of lightning.

“I leave the rest to y-” The witch was interrupted by a kiss. The wooden door crashed and splintered, and the storm howled into the room, ripping the couple apart.

“I’ll be here!” they screamed, their voice a whisper above the raging storm, as the witch was borne away by the wind. “I’ll be here, waiting!”

And they collapsed, sobbing, to the floor.