Her sobs echo through me like thunder, each shaky breath a scream in my soul. How could she think she had to hide this from me—the one person who knows what it's like to carry darkness as a second skin?
"It's okay to cry, Len. I've got you," I whisper, my voice breaking like waves on rocks.
She crumbles completely, tears soaking through my shirt. The rage builds inside me like magma beneath the earth.
I'll kill him.
I'll make him regret ever touching her.
I rub her back in slow circles, running my fingers through her silk-soft hair, pressing kisses to her crown like each touch could erase her pain. If I could, I'd take it all and make it my burden just so she'd never hurt again.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, fragile as frost.
I pull back to see her tear-streaked face glinting in the moonlight.
"What the hell could you possibly be sorry for?"
"Your shirt," she breathes. "It's ruined."
A bitter laugh escapes me. "I hated this shirt anyway."
We stay wrapped in each other, time slipping away like water. I'd stand here forever if it meant keeping her close. She makes me feel alive—more than any high has ever given me.
"Do you know what magnata means?"
I wait, fascinated by how her mind finds beauty in strange places.
"It's the reflection of the moon on water," she says, gazing where silver light dances on black waves. "You know what it makes me wonder?"
The silence stretches between us as I continue to wait.
"Why does everyone want to be someone's sun?" she muses, watching the moon. "Why not be someone's moon? Moonlight proves there's always light in the darkness."
Her words strike deep, making me wonder if I've ever truly felt anything before this moment.
She's lost in thought, but I'm lost in her.
Entirely.
Completely.
Like the moon lost in the night sky, knowing exactly where it belongs.
"You can't stare at the sun the way you can admire the moon." Her luminous eyes meet mine, shimmering like sea glass in dawn light. "Sometimes it's nice to look at something long enough to realize how much you love it."
She doesn't realize she's describing how it feels to be looking at her right now.
"And the moon," she adds, "reminds you you're never actually alone. No matter where you end up, you can look up at night and know someone else is seeing the exact same thing." She tucks her hair behind her ear, thinking. "It's weird to think about—people who'll never meet, maybe don't even speak the same language, all connected by this one thing hanging in the sky."
She glances up.
"When everything feels like too much, I remember people have been staring at that same round rock forever. All these centuries of humans having their worst nights and best nights under it."
The thought makes her smile and it’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.
“It’s only visible because of the darkness. How could you ever be afraid of something that gives the stars a home?"
I want to tell her she's the light I didn't know I needed until it found me but the words tangle in my throat. Instead, I pull her closer until her heartbeat meets mine, kissing her hair that smells of lavender and night air, then her temple—gentle, reverent, like something sacred.
