#boldmovesonly

I have this theory about fire signs. We don’t fall in love — we dive headfirst into it. No warning signs, no checking the water’s depth, no second-guessing. We see something we want, and it’s all-consuming. Reckless? Maybe. Worth it? Every single time.

I should probably mention I’m a Leo.

Which means I’m passionate, dramatic, and according to every horoscope I’ve ever read, slightly too obsessed with being the center of attention. Guilty as charged. But what those horoscopes forget to mention is that Leos also love with this ridiculously loyal, fierce kind of tenderness. When we care, we really care.

And I care about you.

That’s the part I haven’t told you yet. Mostly because, for the past six months, we’ve been stuck in this gray area of “are we flirting or just naturally this charming around each other?” And let’s be honest, it’s exhausting pretending I don’t notice the way your eyes linger on my mouth when I talk. Or how you always sit a little closer than necessary when we watch movies on my couch.

So naturally, this morning, I did what any hopelessly in-love Leo would do. I checked my horoscope.

Leo-horoscope-today: The fire within you won’t be ignored today. A conversation you’ve been avoiding is about to find its way to the surface. Be bold, be kind, and remember: love favors the brave.

I practically snorted into my pillow.

Of course. Of course today was the day the stars decided to throw me into an emotional whirlwind. It’s classic Leo energy, really. Big gestures, dramatic timing, hearts worn unapologetically on sleeves. And you know what? I wasn’t mad about it.

I grabbed my phone, took a deep breath, and scrolled to my love horoscope daily just to confirm the universe’s agenda.

Love horoscope daily: Today’s the day to tell them. The one who makes your pulse race feels it too. Drop the hints, send the text, make the move. Courage looks good on you.

I mean, if that wasn’t a cosmic green light, I don’t know what is.

So I texted you.

“Coffee? Same place, 11?”

You replied with a single word. “Always.”

That was the thing about you. You never played it cool. You weren’t the type to leave someone hanging, to pretend you didn’t care. It was one of the many reasons I was hopelessly, stupidly into you.

By the time I reached our favorite café, my stomach was doing this wild, somersaulting thing, and my brain was playing every possible outcome like a rom-com montage. Would you laugh? Would you run? Would you feel the same?

The little bell above the door chimed as I walked in, and there you were — tucked into the corner booth we always claimed, sipping something iced, scrolling your phone, looking far too good in that worn-out hoodie I’ve secretly wanted to steal for months.

When you spotted me, your whole face lit up.

I swear, my heart actually sighed.

“Hey, sunshine,” you grinned, sliding my favorite drink across the table before I even sat down. “You look… extra radiant today. Leo energy?”

I laughed, shaking my head as I slid into the booth. “You mocking my horoscope obsession?”

“Never. In fact,” you said, pulling out your phone, “I read mine today too.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Since when?”

“Since you got me hooked on that weird astrology app,” you smirked. “It said something about ‘a long-burning connection catching fire.’ Figured it was about my toxic relationship with iced coffee, but…” you trailed off, eyes meeting mine, and the air between us shifted.

My pulse thudded in my ears.

“Funny,” I managed, clearing my throat. “My leo-horoscope-today said I should be bold and have a conversation I’ve been avoiding.”

You leaned in a little, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah? What conversation?”

And that was it. The moment.

I could’ve chickened out. Could’ve made a joke, changed the subject, waited for another day. But Leos don’t do half-measures. We love loudly or not at all.

“I like you,” I said, voice steady, hands fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve. “Like… really, really like you. And it’s not new. It’s been happening since that night we got caught in the rain and you gave me your jacket and we both pretended it wasn’t a movie moment.”

Your face did this soft, unreadable thing, and my stomach twisted.

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I didn’t want to mess up what we have, but then my horoscope literally told me to grow a backbone, and well…” I gestured wildly, “here I am.”

There was a beat of silence. A breath, a heartbeat, a universe folding in on itself.

And then you laughed.

Not a mocking laugh. The kind of laugh people write poems about. Warm and delighted and a little disbelieving.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you said, reaching across the table to take my hand. “Because I’ve been an absolute coward about it. And honestly, I was counting on your Leo self to make the first move.”

I blinked. “Wait, really?”

You nodded, grinning. “You make it really easy to fall for you, you know that?”

And just like that, the weight on my chest lifted.

We spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing. Our stupidly perfect timing, our favorite constellations, how both of our love horoscope daily readings had been suspiciously accurate for weeks now.

By the time we left the café, hand in hand, the world felt a little brighter.

“You know,” you said, squeezing my fingers, “I think we should thank the stars for this.”

“Or at least the app developers,” I teased.

You laughed. “Definitely both.”

And as the sun warmed our faces, I realized I hadn’t felt this light in ages. This giddy, ridiculous, butterflies-in-the-stomach kind of happiness. All because I stopped overthinking and let myself be the fire sign I was born to be.