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Her eyes widen a little. Not much. But enough.
I keep going. Because I’m already bleeding.
“Well. That’s you.” I give her a crooked smile. “You’re the ruin, Luna. And I’m ancient. I’m chaos incarnate. I’ve seduced demons, danced with death, pranked gods. But you , ” I gesture vaguely at her like she’s the unsolvable riddle I’ve spent centuries failing. “You’re the only thing that’s ever scared me.”
She doesn’t say anything.
Which means I’ve either won this round, or I’ve doomed myself. Again.
She says it so softly I almost don’t hear it. Like she’s handing me her ribs one by one and daring me to break them.
“I’m no one,” she whispers. “I’m not special like you are. I’m barely old enough to drink and I’m… not good enough for you.”
Time doesn’t stop , but it stutters. The way it does when your name is said by someone who means it, or when you’re looking at something beautiful and realize it might vanish.
I blink at her, slow and stunned, because what the fuck is she talking about?
My laugh comes out rougher than I mean it to, like it’s been scraped raw against the inside of my chest. “Are you serious right now? You’re not good enough for me?”
She looks away. Down. Anywhere but at me. Her teeth dig into her lip like she’s trying to keep the rest inside, but it’s too late. I’ve seen the damage. The fracture line. The crack that shouldn’t exist.
“You want to talk about worth?” I step closer, dropping the stupid grin I usually wear like armor. “I’ve lived long enough to forget who I was before the Sins. I’ve done things , horrible, beautiful, cursed things , that should’ve earned me a nice eternal vacation in some pit of suffering. And I was fine with that.”
Her head snaps up.
“I was fine,” I repeat, quieter now. “Until you.”
I reach out and hook a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to mine. “You walked into my world like you were meant to ruin it. And not just mine , all of us. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t fall apart. You chose us. You still choose us.”
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.
“No, Luna. You don’t get to call yourself nothing when everything about you is what keeps pulling me back from the edge. You think you’re not enough?” I laugh again, bitter this time. “You’re too much. That’s the problem. Too much heart. Too much fire. Too much truth.”
I lean in, close enough to smell the chaos she’s always drenched in. “And gods help me, I’d drown in you gladly.”
Her lips part, just barely.
“And by the way,” I murmur, brushing a knuckle down her cheek. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel special. So if you think I’m out of your league? You built the fucking league, Luna.”
I step back before I do something worse. Like falling to my knees. Or kiss her like she’s mine.
She says it so simply. No fanfare. No warning. “I feel the same way about you.”
It guts me. The words cut through the heart I swore I didn’t have left. But it’s not the words that undo me, it’s what comes next.
Because I feel it.
Not in the way people say they feel things. Not metaphorical or imagined. This is real. Immediate. A surge through the bond that sears straight into my chest and stays there. It’s heat and ache and something like lightning, laced with the unmistakable flavor of her , Luna in all her chaotic softness. Her emotions thread through mine, sticky and aching and entirely too honest.
She doesn’t just tell me how she feels.
She shows me.
Desire, tangled and breathless. Not the kind born from lust , but the kind that undoes. Wanting, not for my power or my clever mouth or my loyalty. She wants me. All of me. Even the broken, crooked, impossible-to-love parts. She sees every piece and still she pulls me closer in her mind.
And then there’s the other thing, that thing.
Adoration.