Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to the rightful owners.

Dedication: This was a Secret Santa gift for "askladarmin" on Tumblr. I'm only 23 hours too late. Shhh.

Author's Note: I'm really sorry if this is really awful. It was only supposed to be two thousand words or so, but then it decided it was never going to end. I'm so out of practice of writing these two cuties, so I hope it isn't too obvious. Also, if any of you readers work at Disney, I know the details are very off, but I had to smudge them a bit to get the story to work. Enjoy!

Word got around the Magic Kingdom awfully quick.

Armin couldn't exactly say there was something magical about how fast the rumors ran, because the last time he tried to make a pun about their summertime cash source, Eren socked him in the arm.

(No, Armin was done with sharing his Disney puns aloud, thank you very much.)

So, when he entered the staff room for his lunch break, he was hardly surprised to see the others crowded around the stained plastic table with Connie's phone propped against the napkin dispenser. This was a near daily occurrence. Connie, who spent many of his hours scanning surveillance footage for wandering children, always made a point of copying the best footage onto his phone for later enjoyment. Incredibly illegal, but everyone enjoyed it enough to keep their mouths shut.

Although he busied himself with the microwave, Armin kept one ear on the tinny voice coming from Connie's phone. It sounded like a woman was screaming bloody murder.

Probably some lady with seven dwarves of her own finally losing it.

When Armin passed by Connie, he craned his neck to see who was on the tiny screen, but whatever had happened was long past. He waited for the others to clear from the table before sidling up next to his friend.

"What happened?"

"Dude! You know that Tinkerbell chick?"

Armin suppressed a nervous giggle. That Tinkerbell chick was Annie Leonhardt, indisputably the most terrifying person in the park—villains included. Armin suspected that Connie would be drifting off into an eternal sleep if Annie had entered in that moment.

"You so gotta watch this!"

Connie jammed a few buttons on his phone screen and a distorted video played back on the screen. The quality was poor, but Armin could easily make out Annie's trademark scowl. A balding man who had strayed from his wife and kids had cornered her, tugging at her wings with a drunken smile.

Armin felt a knot tie in his gut.

"Just wait for it."

"Wait, what am I wai—Jesus Christ!"

In a single fluid movement, Annie ripped out of her wings and plunged her fist in the man's face. Crimson erupted everywhere and the creeper shrieked, toppling over with a thick hand pressed to his nose. The crowds around the two suddenly erupted into a chaotic panic. In the screams and crying, Armin nearly missed Annie slipping away with a blank frown.

"She—I—this was on surveillance?!"

"Ahh, not quite," Connie grinned. "It's currently trending on Youtube, 'cause some twerp with a camera caught it. 'Hot Fairy Gives Captain Creep a Right Hook.' Rather clever, if you ask me."

Armin dragged his hands down his face and groaned. This was not what he was expected to see on his lunch break. Although he hardly knew Annie, he felt sorry for her. That man deserved what he got, but he feared for Annie's sake in the legal ramifications later.

At least there weren't any sirens in the background. Hopefully they didn't try to arrest her.

Armin sighed and went back to stabbing at his lukewarm ramen.

Welcome to the Happiest Place on Earth.

…

For the rest of his shift managing one of the many themed rides, Armin felt his mind drift back to Annie. He couldn't say they were close. Really, just two broke students who attended the same university. Their longest conversation had consisted of "hey, is that the attendance sheet" and a grunted "yeah" during one of their shared courses his first semester. It had been Intro to Psych and Armin had fervently hoped to see her again in higher-level psychology courses, but much to his disappointment, he hadn't seen her name on the roster again.

He had all but given up hope on meeting her again when they crossed paths during orientation training. Armin was already indebted to Mikasa's friend (Christen…Christa maybe?) for managing to hook them up with temporary employment other than burger flipping, but the chance to speak with Annie simultaneously thrilled and terrified him.

Naturally, she hadn't even glanced at him once during training and they had been assigned to opposite sides of the park. Only a few weeks into the sweltering summer, he supposed he missed his chance now that Annie was a fairy fugitive.

"Is it our turn?"

Armin jumped and glanced at the two dribbly-nosed kids waiting anxiously at his side.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Go ahead," he recovered with a cheery smile.

They clambered onto the next available dragon with overjoyed shrieks. Despite his muddled (and rather disappointed) thoughts about his lack of a relationship with Annie, Armin couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. The others routinely complained about the heat and rude park goers, but Armin loved being stationed at one of the kids-only rides. Five-year-olds were so much more pleasant to deal with than their irritated parents.

Plus—the kids always laughed at his jokes and silly faces. He watched the two children soar on their dragon, their unrestrained laughter growing louder each time they rounded the corner.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Armin distractedly kept an eye on the hot, blistering sun as it made its arching trek across the sky before dipping behind Cinderella's Castle. The intercom crackled and buzzed, mingling with the chirping crickets, as it politely reminded visitors about the park's closing, Armin exhaled in relief. The hour after closing was always his favorite part of the day. He would take the scenic route back to the staff center, he decided. There was something peaceful about being one of the last workers to remain in the park, since most everyone else left as soon as they could.

Armin casually strolled back to "base," humming one of the many catchy jingles overplayed on the loudspeakers. When he stepped into the communal lockers, he realized by lack of personal affects that he was the last to leave.

Wait—no, someone else left their…oh…

Armin's eye caught on the white hoodie, lying discarded underneath one of the benches.

It's Annie's hoodie. He had seen her wear it almost religiously as she slunk away after each shift.

Armin hesitated before bending down, picking it up delicately between two fingers. It wasn't that he was afraid of it—rather, he was afraid of what Annie might do if she burst through the doors in that moment and saw him with her property.

She must've dropped it on her way out. She probably had to hurry.

Armin's frown tightened. She probably won't have the chance to come back and pick it up.

Knowing the ruthless efficiency of the maintenance staff (many times, Armin himself had lost several articles of clothing that had slipped from the safe confines of his assigned locker), he doubted that the hoodie would last long on the floor. With another worried sigh, Armin tucked the worn fabric under his arm, determined to return the hoodie to Annie one way or another.

At least it'll give me the chance to talk with her about something other than attendance sheets.

…

When Armin finally left the staff room, he released another pleased sigh at the cooled air and the relaxed fit of his "street clothes." He reached in his pocket to grab his keys, but a noise several yards away caused him to freeze.

What was that?

His wide eyes shot up just in time to see a shadow dart behind a closed up gift kiosk.

"Hello? The park is supposed to be closed right now…."

Ugh. Why am I doing this? Armin groaned internally as he took a half step towards the sound. This is how those horror movies start that Reiner always gushes about.

He could see the headlines now: "Stupid Part-timer Killed by Mickey Mouse Murderer, Severed Head Becomes Permanent Part of Haunted Mansion Attraction."

Armin rolled his eyes at his own melodrama. If he were to be horribly maimed in the next ten minutes, then Disney would have to pay for his student loans. It was a morbid, yet simultaneously comforting thought.

Still, it didn't stop him from nearly jumping out of his skin when Annie rounded the corner, watching him impassively with her blank stare.

"Oh, Je—" Armin took a deep breath and pressed his hand to his chest, willing it to stop its painful pounding. He felt the thin fabric of Annie's hoodie rub across his fingers.

"It's a small world after all," he blurted out, trying to come up with something quickly to mask his embarrassing terror.

Judging by the narrowed, unamused glare he received, Armin realized he had made a mistake.

"Oh my god…" You idiot! The first thing you say to her is a freaking Disney pun. What the hell were you thinking?!

"I'm so sorry. What I meant to say was, uh… I was just looking for you because I wanted to return your jacket because I saw it on the floor and I was looking for you—oh god, did I already say that?—but I ran into you so I said it was a small world after all, because, well, you know, and that damn song was stuck in my head—I'm so, so sorry." Armin's explanation sounded far too high-pitched and breathless to be remotely intelligent. At least the joke was sorta clever. However, Annie's sour expression faded slightly as she glanced down at her hoodie.

Armin followed her pointed stare and offered her hoodie back to her with another hurried apology. "I wouldn't have taken it from the staff room if I had known you were coming back to get it," he explained. "I thought you had left already, so I didn't want it to be thrown away, since I knew you probably really liked it."

If Annie had heard him, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she busied herself with frantically checking each pocket.

I didn't steal anything, if that's what you're concerned about, Armin countered in his head.

A thought struck him as he watched her inspect her hoodie. "Wait a minute—why didn't you leave earlier?" He tilted his head. She had changed out of the incriminating costume, but Armin doubted she had gone home and returned. According to Connie, Annie's photo had been added to the "do not allow reentry" board.

Annie withdrew her hand from a pocket and shook the keys in her palm. They rattled and glinted in the weak lamp glow.

"Oh," Armin nodded once, then twice.

She must've have been sneaking around the park all day then. It's a miracle she didn't get caught.

"Why did you wait until now to get your keys?"

Annie glanced away. If it had been anyone else, Armin would have suspected them of guilt or embarrassment. Since it was Annie Leonhardt, he supposed she just didn't care.

"I realized I forgot it after changing, but they deactivated my key card so I couldn't get back in. I figured I would have had to break a window or something to get it, so I waited till everyone was gone." She gave him an odd look. "Well, almost everyone," she amended. "Armin, right?"

Dear god… I almost became an accomplice to a federal crime. Breaking and entering would not have looked good on my record.

Wait. Does she know my name?

"Oh, uh, yeah," Armin echoed again, not sure of what to say. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the darkened shop windows and gurgling fountains. Everything seemed so different, so deflated, when the park goers left. Usually there was always at least a few other people milling around, but this time they were truly alone. It was a bit spooky.

"So, uh… Would you mind if I walked you to your car then?" When Armin looked back at the request and considered the sheer intensity of Annie in the captured video, he realized that he was the one who most likely needed protection from any deranged murderers lying in wait by the themed statues.

Annie shot him another odd look—this time, a cross between skepticism and boredom—but she shrugged nonetheless before turning towards the main road. As replaceable, temporary staff members, naturally their parking was on the opposite side of the park, resulting in many rushed mornings for Armin as he all but sprinted through the waking park to clock in on time. Armin trailed behind her, keeping a wary eye on the shadows. Normally he wasn't so jumpy at night, but being startled by Annie had rattled him a bit.

When they crossed through the cobblestoned plaza where many of the costumed characters assembled for photograph opportunities, Armin couldn't stop the comment from leaving his mouth.

"Do you come here often?"

Ugh… If she doesn't punch me, I should do it myself. I must have gotten waaay too much sun today.

He didn't need several semesters of advanced psychology courses to figure out her lethal glare meant she was unamused.

"Uh, what I mean was have you always been Tinkerbell?" he quickly corrected himself. "I thought you had to go through special training to work…in character." Now that Armin thought about it, the only time he had ever seen Annie in the revealing green costume was in the video. He definitely would have remembered seeing it elsewhere.

She tugged subconsciously at the dirt strained hem of her hoodie, almost as if she were trying to pull down her velour costume from earlier that day.

"No," Annie sighed gustily and dropped her hands. "I wasn't supposed to, but Christa was sick and they needed an emergency fill-in. Usually I work in the kitchens…in the air conditioning," she added flatly.

Armin nodded. He understood. Although he spent most of the time outside, at least he had a small spattering of shade from the beating sun. He couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to work in the broiling sun without shade and without respite from eager, grabbing hands and snarky adults. In poor conditions without an endless supply of patience, Armin could easily see how someone could snap—especially with such a vile catalyst.

Testing the waters, Armin ventured with another careful comment. "I saw what had happened though. That guy was totally a creep."

"You…saw?"

"Uhh…" She might as well know. Connie said it was trending. "Someone recorded it and posted it on Youtube."

Annie's eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

"Don't worry!" Armin quickly countered, waving his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. Sometime during their conversation, he had caught up with her and they were now walking side-by-side. "You're name wasn't posted—it just said, ahh…"

Hot Fairy.

"Said what?"

No way am I going to tell her that.

"Uh, you know what? I can't remember." Armin blushed and turned away, grateful for the cool darkness to hide his flushed face.

"Well, he was really drunk," Annie added after another pause. "His wife and kids were right next to him. It was pathetic."

Armin tutted sympathetically. "Did he say anything?"

"Yeah," Annie shot him a furrowed stare, though Armin was relieved to know that it was reserved for someone else. "He wanted to know if I was tired of Peter Pan and wanted a real man instead."

"Oh no…" Armin groaned, trying to get the mental image out of his head. He could feel his childhood being corrupted as they spoke.

"So, I told him he should meet Captain Right Hook instead."

He couldn't help it. The strained snort that burst from his lips shocked both of them, cracking jarringly in the silent night like a sharp whip.

Connie's going to be so disappointed to learn that the kid who posted the video wasn't creative at all. He just overheard Annie.

"Hey! Park's closed!" a gruff voice sounded behind them. Although Armin could probably come up with an excuse for himself, he doubted he could get them both out of trouble. Before he could stutter out an apology, Annie's iron grip closed around his wrist and yanked him towards the nearest alleyway.

"Wha—"

"Get back here you two!"

"Shhh!"

"Hey! Stop!"

Unable to do much other than trying not to trip over his own sneakers, Armin trailed behind Annie as she pulled him through the park. Sensing Armin's lungs were about to give out (rather, if they kept running, his pants would probably give them away), Annie tugged him into a tiny alcove, nestled between a themed pretzel shop and a gapping statue of some animated sidekick.

"I'm not allowed to be here," was all Annie offered. Armin was a bit self-conscious to note that her breathing didn't sound nearly as ragged as his.

"That's…fine…" Armin struggled to compose his breaths. "I probably…shouldn't be here eith—uhpp!"

A brilliant white beam of light passed only inches from Armin's scuffed shoe. Without any warning, Annie clamped a sweaty hand over Armin's mouth, stifling his words. Instead of being repulsed by the forceful action, the warmness of her palm shocked him into silence. He could smell the faint smell of cinnamon across her knuckles—no doubt, a remnant of whatever she had stolen for dinner.

It was rather nice, in a very strange (and maybe a little perverted, he realized belatedly) way. As soon as the searchlight dimmed and footsteps trailed away from their hiding spot, Annie lowered her hand. Armin bit his lip, hoping she wasn't paying too much attention to his reddened face.

However, when she stepped back out into the weak lamp light to check for patrollers, Armin noticed with an amused flick of his eyebrow that she was just as flushed. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase or simply the exertion of running, but either way, Annie's eyes shone a little brighter, framed by her rosy cheeks and wispy hair.

Something twisted in Armin's gut. Was that hunger? He reminded himself that he hadn't had dinner yet.

"So, I guess we better get out before they come back…" Armin trailed off after a moment of silence.

Annie didn't respond. Her wide eyes were fixed on something behind him. Armin felt his stomach clench again. Judging by her expression, Annie was looking at something she hadn't expected to see. Armin hoped that didn't mean handcuffs, mace, or attack dogs.

Armin cautiously glanced over his shoulder, holding back a joyful laugh as he realized what she was looking at. Although most of the street lamps and auxiliary lights had been shut off to conserve energy, the pastel-tinted spotlights that illuminated Cinderella's Castle were still shining brightly. Armin remembered someone explaining the reason, that they kept the lights on for any wandering, youthful eyes in the nearby resorts and hotels.

Annie's faintly parted lips and her sparkling eyes reminded Armin of the countless children who similarly gawked at the magical splendor upon first entering the park. Sensing Armin's amused stare, Annie firmly clamped her mouth shut and glanced away.

"I never had the chance to see that before…" she confessed in a low, steady tone.

There was something else to her statement, a childhood memory tinged with regret. She didn't offer any details about it, but Armin wondered what could have made her grow up so quickly.

"We always could leave before dark. I saw the castle in the daytime, but…."

Armin's gaze drifted back to the castle. He understood what she meant. There was something magical about the castle that he had missed in all of his time working at Disney. Since his station was so close to the castle, his bored stare habitually traced up and down the delicate architecture to kill time. More often than not, his attention was distracted by the swarms of screaming and giggling and smiling people milling around the drawbridge. After all, he was studying psychology—not architecture.

Therefore, when his shift ended and he would trek through the park each night, with no one to watch, Armin's gaze rarely strayed back towards the castle. He was usually too consumed with boring adult thoughts like paycheck stubs and student loans to notice the magic.

Well, if he were being honest with himself, Armin probably wouldn't have noticed it either until he saw Annie's eyes light up.

Armin took a deep breath, preparing himself for the ridiculous words that were about to pour from his mouth. They were already trespassing; things probably couldn't get too much worse if they stayed a bit longer.

"Do you wanna get closer?"

"What?" Annie jerked back a bit, eyeing Armin with her trademark hooded expression.

"I mean, you're probably banned forever, so it isn't like you'll get another chance to see it up close." Her stare remained cautious. Whatever she was expecting him to say, that wasn't it.

"So, I was just wondering if you would like to get closer to it."

Armin waited in tense apprehension as her gaze slide over his shoulder and back to the castle. He could tell she was mulling it over in her mind. He doubted she was afraid of the legal consequences if they were caught, but there was a different discouraging factor that caused her to hesitate. After another lengthy pause, her gaze flicked back to his face and a muted smile briefly ghosted across her pursed lips.

"Yeah, sure."

Armin checked his grin before it consumed most of his face.

"Come on then! I know a short cut!"

…

As the favorite grunt of the security chief, Connie was privy to the best spots in the park, known only to a select few. He often spent most of his break time with Sasha, another summer hire, in these private holes, but Armin decided it was best not to mention that when he described where they were going.

"So, after I bailed Connie out of a really sticky situation involving Ariel and Snow White, he showed me his favorite place to…uh… go."

He slid a trashcan to the side and slipped through another branch-covered alcove. He periodically glanced over his shoulder to make sure Annie was still with him. She trailed behind with a thoughtful expression, memorizing each detail even though she would most likely never return.

"Hmmm…" Annie hummed noncommittally, focusing more on the journey than Armin's words. Surprisingly, Armin didn't feel disheartened by Annie's lack of attention. If anything, it made it easier for him to study her every time there was a lull in the rather one-sided conversation.

Although she tried to keep her expression steeled after being caught by Armin once before, Annie still let slip the periodic smile or crinkled eyes each time the tinted spotlights shifted colors. Armin thought the meekly marveling expression was beautiful, yet so unnatural on her normally stern face. However, he was afraid that commenting on it would force her to hide the childish wonder even more, so he stayed silent.

Armin slowed to a stop only a few feet from the base of the heavy front door.

"You weren't kidding… This is close," Annie drawled slowly, flicking an amused eyebrow upwards. She reached forward and pressed a pale palm against the cool wood.

"We aren't there yet," Armin reminded her with another pleased smile. He squinted at the stone, searching for Connie's carved symbol. He gestured towards her and disappeared around the corner.

"We aren't?" Annie blinked, following close behind. Armin halted in front of a camouflaged service door. In the darkness, Annie could barely distinguish it from the rest of the stone. Armin stooped behind a bush and pulled out a rusted key.

"Connie's, uh, spot is a little more private than the front door," Armin admitted, yanking the door open with a low grunt. They both peered inside and were immediately struck by a dual waft of stale air and sweat.

Annie's brows furrowed as she started to figure out the implication. She studied his face and scanned his thin frame, no doubt sizing Armin up in case he tried anything unwarranted.

"I promise we only have to stay in the tunnel for a little bit." She still did not look convinced. After all, it looked more like something the dwarves would have used to get to the mines instead of a shortcut to a princess's home.

I've always wanted to do this.

Armin took a deep breath before sticking out his hand. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"I said, do you trust me?"

"Did you just try to quote Aladdin on me?"

Oops.

His gut clenched again (why do you keep doing that?), but he still managed a weak chuckle. "Ahh, bad habit…" He glanced to side, catching her amused smile. "At least you got the reference though," he countered, resisting the urge to rub the back of his burning neck.

Annie scoffed, but she didn't contribute any more to the topic. Instead, she took one last breath of the fresh outdoor air before nodding towards the service door. "Is that the way?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's at the end of the tunnel. Well, there's a ladder at the end of the tunnel and then a few turns, but it's essent—"

"Why don't you lead then?"

"Yeah, that would probably be best…" Armin offered a shy smile before lowering his gaze. He hoped he knew where he was going. The last (and only) time he had been here was when Connie first showed him the secret hatch. He tentatively ducked through the door and all but crawled through the tunnel. He could hear Annie's shoes scuffing behind him.

Hopefully we don't end up lost…

…

"Okay…" Armin panted, his dust coated fingers brushing against the final door. "We're almost there, but you have to close your eyes." He cracked the door, allowing a small bit of light to flood their cramped tunnel.

"What? Why do I have to?"

"Uh… For the full surprise?"

Annie released an impatient hiss through her pursed lips, but in the faint light, he watched her obediently close her eyes. Grinning, Armin shoved the door open with another grunt. He knew by the end of this night, his poor shoulder would be bruised horribly. Gently snagging her hoodie drawstrings with his forefingers, he led her through the door. In another daring act, he pulled her to her feet and steadied her on the narrow walkway, keeping his warm, sweaty fingers tangled in her sleeve hem.

"Okay. Now you can open your eyes!"

Annie slowly pried her eyes open and stifled a gasp by bringing a trembling hand to her lips. Gaining composure, she dropped her hand and bit her lip to mask her enthusiasm, but her eyes still shimmered, reflecting the sparkling lights of the park around them.

Armin tore his gaze from her star struck expression and surveyed the park, rolling out in front of them in a glittering, glowing sea of fountains, topiaries, and metal tracks. It really was a gorgeous view, but he couldn't help but peek at the flushed, radiant expression beside him instead.

"Is that close enough?" he whispered.

He first thought he had spoken too softly, but after another comfortable pause, Annie nodded with a thick swallow.

"Yeah…"

"It was so weird," Armin interpreted her positive reaction as permission to continue. "I just wanted this job because I figured it would be better than working at some fast food place. I mean, I really loved Milo Thatch as a kid and I like to think I could kick ass at Disney karaoke—" Armin paused at the sound of Annie's delicate snort; it was such a lovely, dorky sound "—but it was just a job. I never really, well…noticed the magic." Armin clamped his lips tightly closed. That sounded so dumb.

Annie didn't tear her gaze from the glistening lights, but she made a muffled sound in the back of her throat, as if preparing for a lengthy or complicated response.

"I really wanted this job. Isn't that so hilarious?" Her brittle laugh sounded anything but humorous. Armin remained silent, watching as Annie clenched her fists and loosened them. Annie was clearly debating something in her mind and Armin waited patiently as she sorted the chaotic thoughts in her mind.

"I didn't really know my mother," she started slowly and uncertainly. Although Armin was amazed that she was starting to open up, he was afraid of saying something to scare her back into impassiveness. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, keeping his loose grip on her sleeve.

"It was just my father and me. He… he clearly wanted a son. While the other girls got to play princess and pirouette at their recitals, I was too busy bandaging my bruised knuckles and practicing my punches." Another dry laugh. "As you can imagine, I wasn't invited to many tea parties growing up."

"Ariel, Belle, Jasmine… I saw them on their backpacks and on their notebooks. They were the only way I could try to connect with the other girls, but guess it was too late. I couldn't be a princess anymore, since my father trained me to be a fighter. I watched those movies again and again until I could recite the words from heart, but nothing happened. I hoped that maybe—just maybe—working here for a summer could give me a glimpse of that magic I missed out on all those years ago."

Annie fell silent. Instead of looking hostile or jaded, she simply looked tired.

That explains the Aladdin reference, I guess. Armin lowered his gaze, trying to come up with something to assuage her unspoken fears of being an unwanted childhood freak.

"To tell you the truth," Armin began with an embarrassed chuckle. "I spent most of my life playing the damsel in distress. It really wasn't anything special. I'm sure being the prince or knight is much more exciting."

Annie offered him a weak smile, the first genuine one directed solely at him.

"I guess that makes us both rejects then."

"I guess so. I can totally see this being the plot of the next Disney movie: some badass fairy princess beating up dragons and evil wizards to save the prince."

"I like that idea a lot."

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence. Armin knew it was growing late. It wasn't like Annie really had to worry about her shift (he knew enough to not bright that up), but he still had to be up early.

Armin felt Annie nuzzle closer to his arm, his jacket and her hoodie brushing together. It wasn't quite romantic, but it was significantly more intimate than anything else they had done that night.

Ehh, I can just get Jean to cover my shift tomorrow.

"Thank you, Armin," she whispered in a quiet, tiny voice.

"Uh, for what?" Her uncharacteristic action caught him off guard. He wasn't sure what she meant.

"For helping me see a little bit of the magic." Her blue eyes surveyed the expansive park before them. They were bright and shiny, illuminated by the pale, pastel spotlights below them.

"Annie?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I tell people that you're a closet Disney dork?" Annie flushed, but it was a pleasant, pleased blush. After all, it wasn't anything to be ashamed about. At least, not anymore.

Still, they both knew she had a reputation to uphold.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove you off this castle. Gaston-style."

He didn't doubt her for a second.

Hopefully it's alright! Thanks for reading!