And I already knew what would happen after she left.
Everything she touched would smell like her.
My blankets.
My couch.
My clothes.
The black t-shirt she’d borrowed the first rainy night she’d come here.
Gods.
I still hadn’t washed it.
Couldn’t.
Sometimes I picked it up and inhaled her scent like some lovesick beast.
Because it smelled like both of us now.
Moon-shadow and jasmine.
Darkness and warmth.
Mine and hers tangled together.
Luna.
My sweet Luna.
The possessiveness of the thought startled me every single time.
Lost in the increasingly dangerous spiral of my own thoughts, I nearly jumped out of my skin when her sharp little yelp cut through the room.
“What is it?” I demanded instantly, already moving.
I crossed the room in seconds.
Fast enough that she startled when I appeared beside her.
“Is that a m-moth?” she whispered.
I blinked.
Then looked where she pointed.
The crystal lunar moth.
Relief hit me immediately.
Gods.
The way she’d reacted, I’d half expected something dangerous had gotten inside my quarters.
Instead, Amrin stood there pale as moonlight, clutching one of my hoodies in her hands while staring in horror at the palm-sized model resting on the shelf.
“It’s not real,” I said gently.
