Home on the Range

"Miss Luna, you're going to find yourself in trouble with your parents. Again."

The house is quiet save for the sound of a servant's warning and the occasional tapping of objects against the marble top of an oak vanity. Despite the soft scolding, the servant still moves about quietly, pulling various articles of clothing out of a wardrobe, holding them up for her lady to examine.

Said lady seems much more interested in the process of brushing her long hair. Her pale, thin fingers work a soft bristled brush through the waves of purple over and over, fussing over how soft each strand is or at least appears to be. There comes a point where she decides it's best to give up on, setting the brush to the side to take two sections on the sides of her head back and tie them behind her head for a casual half-up style.

A style that makes her servant gasp, clicking her teeth, her irritation growing the more she watches this all unfold.

"What is that? Do you know how improper that style is for a lady such as yourself? People see you, they're gonna think you rolled out of bed without a care for how you look."

No doubt, even without hinting at it, it's obvious she has another thought. Something less decent. Something more like a scandalous rendezvous or walk of shame. The woman at the vanity frowns over her shoulder towards the maid. Per usual, the maid ignores it, sighing to herself as she begins throwing different dress options on the bed.

"Reena, if you're so upset then go back down to your quarters. I can dress myself."

"A lady isn't supposed to-"

"But I can. I do it all the time much against the wishes of everyone in this house. I don't see why this time is any different."

Of course, that doesn't settle well but, after several more minutes of groaning and complaining, the maid throws the rest of the clothes down and walks out, her desire for sleep winning out over her desire to be right and stick to her duty. The absence of another person brings some relief to her, lets her shoulders sag, relax, but only for a moment. After a quick dusting of powder across her face and a spritz of perfume from a colored glass bottle, she's up off her stool and standing by the bed, pawing through the dresses laying about.

It's a warm summer night, she knows exactly which dress she wants. Actually, she just bought it from a store in town for this exact occasion. Which had been hell to try to explain to her parents who had twenty questions about her need for this dress. It definitely doesn't fall in line with their style and what they think she should be wearing, big stiff dresses with heavy hats. After some convincing that this was the new style across the ocean, they let her have it.

It slips over her head easier than most anything else she owns and she can button everything up herself. It's light, breezy, fits her well. The soft white really highlights her dark, unusually colorful hair. But it's still a high-class dress. Nothing like the pants and shirts, vest and boots, she'd grown used to wearing the times she runs to a nearby ranch just outside of town to learn how to work. For being what it is, it's actually comfortable, or as comfortable as something like this can be.

She takes one last look in the mirror, pinching her cheeks for a rosy hue, then kills her oil lamp. With her shoes in hand to make sure they don't click on the floor, she slips out of her room. The house is silent, a grandfather clock ticks at the end of the hall, and, just as she's done a few times before, she slips down to the kitchen and out the back door. Only then does she pause to slip the constrictive shoes onto her feet, giving the toes a good tap on the ground to push them into place.

The night is warm, just as she expected, but the breeze is cool, moving through the mess of her sheer sleeves to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. No doubt this dress was definitely worth the money and all the questioning from her parents.

Grass sways along the perimeter of town, waving in the moonlight,  a soft whisper of a midnight song sweeping through each blade. She stands by her back porch, watching for a moment, admiring the night, how perfect it always feels to be out at this time, to be sneaking out to see the object of her affection and more, how the day leads up to this time and drags hour by hour. The thought of all the waiting alone pushes her forward, running through the grass and behind the buildings that make up the outer edge of town, hiking her dress up so she can make it to the foot trail by the last lampost in town, the one the two of them created all on their own by walking out through the field together so much.

A figure hangs back just outside the glow of the light, straightening his shirt, and she's smiling before she ever sees the details of his face.

"Shand."

She whispers her greeting, making sure she stays out of the rim of light as she approaches his side, letting her dress back down and straightening it out.

He looks up from his boots at the hushed sound of her voice, and damn, she'll be able to take his breath away any time, any place, any occasion, won't she?

A shy but admiring smile pulls at one corner of his lips, throwing his grin a little lopsided and making it seem more of a mischievous expression than the love-struck nervous one that it is.

"You. Are what I️ think it must look like when God smiles."

He keeps his voice down too, reaching out for her hand and pressing it to his lips. A little blood rushes to his face when he looks back to her face and she's looking deep into his eyes, getting him totally lost in deep pools of soft blue.

She's wearing something new- he's not good at keeping up with all the dresses and the outfits, but he knows he's never seen this one before. It's white enough that it's making his mind jump immediately to the thought of her in it, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, a veil over her head.

He shakes himself out of the reverie, though. He's made plans for them tonight.

The air is warm but caressed with a gentle breeze that makes everything swirl around them- grass and willow tress and dust. He takes his hat off and holds it a bit in front of her face to shield her from it as he leads her by the hand down the path they've beaten down together.

"I️ know it's kind of past dinner time now. But I️ hope you're still at least a little hungry."

He tilts the hat a little so he can appreciate the perplexed look on her face, take in her expressions as she tries to figure out what he could possibly mean. He'll let that hang for now.

"I️ hope you didn't have a hard time getting out. I️ keep wondering how long we'll get to do this before your parents notice and raise hell."

“Oh, hang what those old fool say.”

Luna huffs a bit indignantly and she’s aware she sounds like a spoiled child. But she isn’t wrong either. Her parents, the damn Estenors and their greedy grasp on this town, are stuck in their ways. The more pressing way being unfairly controlling her life and making everything hell. Verbal, emotional, and near physical abuse and all.

Still, no need to delve into that nor bring down the light mood of their date.

“I’m sorry. I guess I forget myself sometimes. I feel comfortable just to rattle off when I’m around you.”

It’s not difficult to spin the situation around, it’s not a lie. She’s always felt dangerously calm and open with him, but she loves it. No one has ever made her feel so at home just by existing. With her hand in his, she gives him a little squeeze and leans her shoulder against his arm as they walk.

The ground and grass crunches beneath their shoes, the moonlight highlights the light colors of their clothes, but especially his bright eyes which shine to match the stars above. It makes her smile, blushing some as she looks down at the swishing fabric of her dress to distract her some.

“I only ate enough to keep my parents off my back. I’m still fairly hungry. Did you pack a picnic for us or something?”

The teasing piques her interest enough that she glances up at him, her lips quirking up some, reading his playful energy as easily as if there’s an open book in front of her. God, she loves him. She could read him every day and never get bored.

“I know you didn’t cook. What sort of special order did you place to the corner restaurant in town?”

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He smiles up at the sky, teeth and all, reading the inquisitive tone of her voice. She always plays along with him, always makes him feel like even the small gestures that he’s capable of giving are somehow enough. God knows she deserves the whole world and then some, multiple times over. But until Shand can find a way to somehow lasso all of it down for her, he hopes these small things will be enough.

When he looks back down at her, her chin is rested against his arm and she’s looking up at his eyes again, deep down into him. He swears she can see his soul this way. She’d be the only one who ever bothered to try. The fact that she’s still around must mean there’s something good in there to see, but to Shand, the only thing worth looking at between the two of them is her.

“Hmm. Must be frustrating to not know, huh?”

He relents a sheepish chuckle as he squeezes his arm in a mock fit, then goes back to pressing her face against it. Warm and tight, and he feels the weight of the greatest honor he could have ever imagined.

The well trodden path winds through some pine groves, down past the creek that keep receding, and up a few stubby grass-topped hills. Stretching out before them there is an open field full of forget-me-nots, the clearest view of the sky for miles around. Its like God took the stars in buckets and just dumped them all around their heads, sparkling and glowing like the purest magic.

There’s another worn down spot, but something more recent. He’d worn it down himself earlier when he’d come to set things up. A picnic blanket, picnic basket, and silver candlesticks all at varying heights in the middle of the blanket. The breeze has long since sniffed them out, but Shand leads her to the blanket and lets her sit before pulling a matchbook from his pocket and setting to lighting them back.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the mood for dessert tonight, would you? Not feeling like anything sweet I️ bet.”

“Sweets?”

That really has her interest. He knows her so well, knows the perfect way to get her playing along with whatever he’s planning.

She takes his hand and pulls him down to sit beside her on the blanket. That’s when she notices the matches in his hand.

Luna scoffs playfully almost instantly, snatching the box from him.

“Please. No need for all of that.”

Rather than just pull out a match, she tosses the box away from them altogether. With one hand clear, she snaps her fingers like flicking a match, a flame starting over her index finger, following and flowing along it as if attached. She bobs her fingers across the tops of all the candles, each wick catching fire quickly upon the contact.

The breeze tries it’s best to snuff the candles out again but these flames put up an unnatural fight, flickering but never showing any sign of dying. A confident hum rolls through her chest as she watches, turning her proud expression towards him, shimmying her shoulders as her energy and excitement begins to bubble over.

“Well? You said sweets, you know you’ve hooked me. A true gentleman doesn’t keep a lady waiting-“

She pauses. Eyes narrowing as she finally noticed something. Pushing her way close to him, she reaches up to comb her hands through his hair, pulling parts forward, untangling strands stuck together by some sort of gel or oil. The more she works, the more the waves bounce back to life, wrapping around her fingers as if to thank her for freeing them.

“I told you not to slick your hair. I am not seeing you to date one of those awful uptown men. I’m dating you because you’re better than all of them combined. Don’t imitate something you’re above.”

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He sighs, looking down at his lap, still unable to suppress the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of her hands in his hair.

He’d slicked it back the first time they’d gone out on one of these secret dates, and the second and the third. She’d gotten up the courage to tell him on the fourth that she liked it better natural, loose unruly waves jutting this way and that. But somehow he still feels like it could help him somehow, could make him more impressive. Like maybe it would be good to seem like he’s something he’s not.

“I’m just practicing it, you know. One of these days I’m going to have to meet your parents. Like for real. And I’ll need all the help I️ can get.”

He plasters another smile on the end of that so his voice doesn’t sound as heavy as it feels, so the nervous little shake at the end of his voice doesn’t come through.

He removes her hand from his hair and kisses it again, then turns her palm over to kiss it again. Off in the distance, lightning flashes across the sky, followed in slow time by the muted boom of thunder.

“But. That’s another day. This is now. And I️ have brought a game for us to play. I’ve got quite a few sweet things in here, and we’re going to cover your eyes and let you guess what flavor. Seems like something you’d be up for?”

The Lightning makes her hair stand on end and the thunder sends a rush of energy through her. But none of it is bad. She enjoys the feeling, it’s a high of controlled danger and adventure but it’s warm and inviting. Daring her to join and she gladly would and is.

Luna smiles at him, letting him have her hand for a bit longer before she slips her hand from his and moved it to hold his face, thumbing over his cheek.

“I love how lively the sky is when I’m with you.”

A soft sigh escapes her before she really remembers that he had said anything at all.

“Wait-“

Her eyes widen as she gasps, whipping her head around to eye the basket nearby, eyes lighting up.

“A game? We’ve never played this game before! How many things do I have to taste? Have I had all of these before? What are the rules?”

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The genuine excitement on her face is enough to get lost in. Everything about her is as pure as the moonlight and twice as lovely and he cant imagine how in the world he could have gotten this lucky.

“I️ think you’ve had most of it before. Might be a surprise or two thrown in there, though.”

He reaches for the top of the basket to open it, then pulls back quickly.

“Buuuut. Can’t have you getting tempted to cheat. You’re way too good for that.”

He pulls the handkerchief out of the front pocket of his shirt and presses it to his face for a few short moments. It still smells like her perfume from three dates ago, when she’d gotten a little hot and he’d pulled it out to dab at her hairline for her. He still hasn’t washed it. Why would he, it still smells like her?

He hadn’t come up with the idea of a game solely for this reason, but the fact that it might keep the scent of her perfume on his handkerchief for longer sure doesn’t hurt.

He shakes it open and then folds it precisely, leaning in to tie it gently around her head. When her eyes are covered, she reaches out to feel around her, stabilize herself in something, and her hand lands on his knee.

He stays leaned in close to her so his voice washes over her ear.

“Ready for a taste?”

“Oh, you can’t say things like that with us like this. That’s dangerous, dear.”

Her face heats up under the cloth as his breath washes over her ear. It sends a chill down her spine and she knows the reactions she’s feeling are probably deemed improper, but, God, he can make them happen so fast. He was created to be her perfect foil in every way.

But she keeps her voice even and playful, turning her face to steal a quick kiss on his cheek, something pure and simple to hide how flustered he’s making her.

Clearly, he likes the kiss because he turns to return it, to place one on her cheek. They both get lost just pressing their faces together for a moment, rubbing their noses back and forth in the gentlest of touches. They keep just sitting there breathing the same air for a long second before remembering themselves. Thunder cracks a little closer to them than before and a hot breeze sweeps across the area, the flames of the candles growing in response.

“I told you it was dangerous.”

She laughs, fumbling to reach and playfully push him away by his shoulder, feeling the ends of her hair whipping around in the wind.

“Okay- Okay, I’m ready.”

As they settle down, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down then opens her mouth some, waiting for him to start this game.


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Shes right, this is a blurry line to walk. A wonderful, terribly difficult one. As she sits there with her lips slightly parted, leaned forward a little in anticipation, he hums to himself, debating, before leaning in toward her. He steals another quick kiss right off her lips before tapping at the bottom one with his thumb, feeling it give under his finger.

He releases a long exhale before pulling himself back, making himself look down at the picnic basket, open it to rummage inside a bit.

He pulls out several very small serving bowls, each filled with several small pieces of cake, and each covered with a napkin. He lines them up in front of him on the top of the picnic basket before selecting one, passing it under his nose for a deep breath.

“Hmm. I think you’ll like this one. You just have to guess what the flavor is. Guess right and.... and you can steal a kiss. Guess wrong, and I️ get to steal one.”

His eyes sparkle a little in time with the lightning that crackles behind beyond their safe little flowered field. There’s a fork in the basket, but he doesn’t care much to use it tonight. He takes a bite sized pinch of cake between two fingers and holds it up to her mouth, brushing it by her lip just enough to let her know where it is, and to leave the faintest hint of frosting against her pink lip.

She tries not to jolt too much when she feels something press against her lips but she can’t completely atop herself from jumping a little, flinching ever so slightly. The surprise is short lived as she eases into this game of his, relaxing her shoulders some.

Luna takes the bit of cake from his fingers and pulls it into her mouth, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she chews, but also to politely cover her mouth as she licks the frosting off her lips.

Its sweet and light, something perfect for a summer night.

“... Is this... Strawberry shortcake?”

A few seconds of savoring, she’s ready to make her guess, humming in satisfaction as the flavor melts in her mouth and over her tongue. He really couldn’t have picked a better dessert for the occasion.

But that just makes her all the more excited that there’s even more on the way, he’s probably saving the best for last. Dessert and Shand, what more could she want?

“You gave me an easy one to start out with, hm? I don’t even need you to tell me I‘m right, I know I am. So. As such, I win.”

Mid grin forming on her lips, she leans forward quickly and steals a kiss. Or. Tries to, slightly missing and hitting the corner of his mouth instead. Not that she minds, she’s eager for her reward and, technically speaking, she didn’t actually fully miss his mouth. The blindfold can try to stop her, but she’s going to win in the end, that much she’s determined of.

“Okay, next. Please.”

She never moves her hand from his knee back from a few moments ago where she had to balance herself. It’s a totally unnecessary thing now but she’s determined to keep close and touching him in some way if possible. Playfully impatient, she starts tapping her finger against his pants as she waits, opening her mouth again for him.

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He takes a moment to lick the extra taste off his lips, a short smile following even though it's just to himself. She sits back expectantly, and even though her eyes are covered, her pleased expression only makes his smile wider. He has to look back down at the basket for fear that she can somehow, through the blindfold, see him and the dumb look on his face.

"I️ wouldn't be very much of a gentleman if I️ started you out with the hard ones, would I️?"

He makes her wait just a little bit more, controlling his smile now, although it quirks up crooked all the same. He pulls another bite-sized piece of cake from the basket, this one a little crumblier, trying to keep it all between his fingers as he reaches up and taps on her bottom lip first to alert her.

"We're going to work our way up from easiest to hardest. Of course I️ don't have very much motivation to prevent you from winning because, well. It suits me just fine."

When she opens her mouth, he reaches in and puts the cake right on her tongue, taking a second to flick her tongue playfully before he retreats to let her get a good taste.

Luna sits back, her eyes wide under the blindfold, shocked by the rough hit against her tongue. Of course, it doesn’t last long before she wrinkles her nose playfully at him, quietly chewing away. It’s definitely a different texture that’s for sure, but it’s not bad. Just different. But it’s still sweet so she can’t complain.

“Didn’t you ever learn that coffee cake was a breakfast food?”

She brings her hand up, hooking her thumb under the fabric looped around her face, peeling it up off of one eye so she can peek at out him, eyebrow arched.

“Unless you plan to keep me out until it’s breakfast to make that a valid meal.”

As she’s speaking, she’s keeping her face calm, serious, enough that she can see him sweat a little, pulling at the collar of his shirt. No doubt thinking of some comment about how that would be improper of a gentleman. The more he worries over a good answer, the more she cracks and starts grinning at him, something playful and teasing sparkling in her eye.

It’s not as if they haven’t stayed out most of the night before, but she remembers how he had panicked when they woke up to the start of the sunrise. Something about her parents. He seems to always be more worried about them than she is... But maybe that’s because she learned long ago that they will always despise her and she will never be able to please them. She wishes she could get him to learn that sooner rather than later.

“I win again.”

Now that she can see, she gives him a proper kiss, poking at his bottom lip with her tongue to let him get a more lingering taste of the sugar still on her lips. He seems to be enjoying it enough, so she pulls away, dropping the blindfold back down into place.

“This better get more difficult or else every kiss is going to be mine.”

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He chuckles a little at her short peek, how she manages to look in control and totally settled even without having her sight.

“I️ don’t think I️ can emphasize enough how much I’d be okay with that.”

He leans in again, a little high off the sugar and her lips, but she turns away at the last second, leaving him her cheek only. He crashes into it slightly, nose scrunched against her skin as they both laugh.

“Okay, okay. I’ll play by my own rules. That’s the only fair thing to do.”

Back into the picnic basket he goes, this time taking a little longer to get the flaky pastry fully onto his fingers. He drops a few crumbs across the blanket as he swings both arms her way, one hand under the other to catch any remaining crumbs.

“This one’s gonna be tricky. I️ was going to go for something not as hard but you sound like you might be getting a little bored. And I️ can’t have that.”

“Oh-“

Just as she opens her mouth to tease him, make some witty comment about him so obviously underestimating her, the flakey sweet presses past her lips, leaving her only room to bite it. It crumbles off into her mouth and she can feel a thin layer of the pastry stick to her bottom lip.

She decides to leave it for a later moment because she knows exactly what this one is.

“Lemon-cream danish. The one your elderly friend in bakery across the station makes.”

He doesn’t even get a chance to retort or comment, she’s pressing into his space, crashing her lips to his. Now that she knows where he is, she doesn’t even have to work to make sure their lips connect.

This kiss lasts longer, forcing his mouth to part with her tongue so she can press her bottom lip past his. He doesn’t really need any coaxing after that, happily getting to work biting at her lip, taking the leftovers from her. It makes her hum, her shoulders sagging with a deep content sigh through her nose.

One of the many things she can say for certain about him is that he’s a damn good kisser. It takes her a moment to collect herself and pull away, reaching up to feel at her lip with her fingers, feel how warm it is, how it tingles after his touch. Honestly, she’s a little out of breath.

“W-Well. You didn’t think I was going to let you make a mess and not clean it up, did you?”

She laughs, getting comfortable in her spot again, but keeping her hand on his knee still to steady herself. Even though she can’t see past the fabric, she knows her world is spinning.

“You know, something more difficult wouldn’t be something from a bakery you’ve taken me to before.”

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“Hmm. Maybe I have been going too easy on you... maybe you deserve to take another kiss for putting up with me?”

He asks like a giddy child, knowing she’ll continue to play the game with him, tease him as much as he’s trying to tease her. All of it, in keeping with the very game itself, has a sweet undercurrent, from her hand resting on his knee to the way her smile twitches a bit as she waits for him.

“Okay. Let me make my next choice a little more carefully.”

He opens the picnic basket and peers in pensively, reaching in at one spot but then course correcting, several times until he makes up his mind and falls on his choice, a triumphant little chuckle coming from him as he gathers it up for her to take off his fingers.

“Now this. This is from a place you’ve never been. And you’ve never tasted it before. And those are all the hints I’m going to give you. Because you’re making me really impatient to take a kiss from you.”

The way he leads up to it manages to make her nervous, makes her sit up a little straighter at the mention of an incoming challenge. Nothing serious, of course. Never, in all the times they've been close and intimate, just the two of them, has she ever felt nervous in a bad or wrong way. It's always playful or like he's sending shocks of lightning across her skin, a live-wire sort of feeling. It's one of her favorite things about him. On top of all the other reasons she can possibly think of.

Unfortunately, she was nervous for the right reason. The flavor that hits her mouth is different, a mix of a bunch of different flavors. She sits back, brow knit, trying to place everything.

"Well... There's definitely a crust... It's some sort of small tart."

The more she chews, the more certain things become obvious and the more other things done. It's a fruit tart, of course, but what kind of fruit? Everything is mixing. Shand hasn't even said anything but she can feel the smug excitement coming off in waves from him. She's not about to give up, though. Not completely. He's going to have to work for it, too.

"Berry. It's for sure a berry medley."

Luna gives herself a little nod of approval, but she can't exactly place all of the different berries she's tasting. There's too many of them. So she has to just hope that he'll accept that as a suitable answer.

“Is that some uncertainty I️ detect in your voice there?”

Shand makes a playful show of emphasizing her unsure answer, humming a bit to himself and tapping against her knee as he deliberates and draws his answer out, keeping her on pins and needles.

“See I️ chose this one because it’s super tricky. Not a tart at all. Its little bits of cobbler, the way they make it way up near the edge of town at that bed and breakfast place. Technically this was not on the breakfast menu, but. I️ know some people.”

He smiles wider despite how she can’t see it, how she playfully sulks a little at his answer. She starts to ask, but he cuts her off with another mischievous tap against her knee through her dress.

“Oh, and the flavor. That’s special too. Blueberry, blackberry, lemon, and... bet you can’t guess the last flavor.”

He leans in close, very slowly, so as not to alert her. She makes a few guesses- good, but not even close.

By now hes hovering right over her ear as she folds her arms to think a little more. But he doesn’t drag it out any further.

“Honey. Fresh wild honey. I️ chose it because it reminds me of a certain someone I️ know.”

She turns to him in surprise at the tickle of his breath on her ear, and when she does, he catches her lips full in his, hand cradling the back of her head as he takes his kiss as reward for winning this round.

He keeps it sweet but deep, humming into her mouth a little at all the sweetness lingering on her lips and the way she giggles a little up into his lips.

Its a few moments before he pulls himself back begrudgingly with a huff.

“Hmm. Now I’ve gotten a taste for winning. I’m afraid the game is about to become intolerably difficult for you.”

"Oh, no, dear. I think be prepared for me not giving you a single inch anymore."

Luna sways, smug, full of confidence, riding a bit of a high from his victory as much as he is. He mentions another dessert she's never had, has that same knowing tone- "knowing" he's going to win.

Now that she knows he's playing with things not off of any menu she would have seen, she's determined to take this more seriously. No more easy wins for him.

The next dessert is at her mouth but, this time, she snatches his wrist, holds his hand there as she takes the bite and things over it, a motion to show control in this situation. It instantly spreads and nearly melts in her mouth, something thick, bits of fruit mixed in, smooth and refreshing, more rich than sweet.

"Peaches. This one is a tart for sure. It's a graham crust with a peaches and cream filling. Hints of pear and lime, too. The cream is... Heavy. Not even whipped, just stirred to keep air bubbles out."

She makes a show of why she kept his hand near her face, pulling it closer to her lips so her tongue can pull one of his fingers in. Her parents would scold her to high heaven if they knew she did things like this, but she doesn't care in the slightest. She holds his finger there, swirling her tongue around it, even sucking at it in the process for quite the inappropriate display that she's going to mask under the excuse of cleaning it off.

Once she's sure he's "clean," she opens her lips with a loud pop and lets his hand go, smiling to herself as if nothing just happened.

"There. That's my victory kiss for this round. Hope you enjoyed."

Shand has to work hard to control his breath the way she works over his finger. They’d never really met in very public places, since he was so concerned with what people might think about her if they saw her around town with someone like him. Nothing, not even his low status, should tarnish her reputation. It was hard sometimes to not be able to go have dinner somewhere or walk around town like a normal couple, but, then again. Times like these, Shand is glad they have a good excuse to be out of the public eye.

“I’m almost tempted to go back to the easy ones if that’s how you’re going to take your prize.”

He pauses for a moment on that, considering. Then drags his thumb gently across the boundary of her lower lip, where the slightest bit of cream filling remains.

“But. Hmm. I’m pretty competitive. Plus, it seems like after all the work you put into cleaning my finger for me, I️ should be so kind as to help you clean off, too.”

There’s a mischievous smile in his voice as he goes back into the picnic basket, dodging several options and going straight for one he’s already decided upon.

“Alright. You’ve never had this one either. I’ll be very impressed if you get it right. But if you don’t, I’ll still be very very satisfied.”

She immediately wrinkles her nose at the new dessert, jerking her head away once she has her bite. A disgruntled noise rolls her in throat the longer it sits on her tongue.

“-It’s sour!”

Luna can’t even begin to mask her frustration, talking around the food in her mouth, using every bit of willpower to not spit it back out at him in the worst display of manners the world has ever seen.

“It’s grapefruit, whatever it is-!”

Waving her hand in front of her mouth, she starts acting as if the bite was spicy but, in reality, she just finds it that disgusting, bouncing up and down where she sits in a full-body fit.

She can hear him laugh which only makes her pout as she forces the food down before sticking her tongue out at him, greedily taking in air as if it will somehow wash the taste away.

“Why would anyone want that?”

For the first show of actual dramatics, not a genuine reaction, she coughs some, leaning away from him completely as if he’s just seriously offended her. In all honesty, she was having fun with this game until this hellish dessert. He wasn’t kidding about her never having this before, and she never wants it again.


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He has to press a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing at her dramatic reaction, blindfold still on and all.

“It wasn’t supposed to be all that sour! Just a little bit!”

He tries to apologize and grab her arm back, get back into her good graces somehow, but she keeps playfully resisting him, pouting.

“...you could still guess what it is and get me back real good.”

She seems very offended by that idea, smacking against where she thinks his knee is. He obligingly doesn’t move, let’s her feel around until she finds his knee and then hits against it again.

“I️ guess that makes me the winner then? Did I️ just win the game thanks to a lemon grapefruit meringue pie?”

He pats her hand over his knee and chuckles again before his voice becomes more placating and compassionate.

“I️ should have tasted it first, I️ thought for some reason it would be good. Here, let me show you how sorry I️ am.”

He slips the blindfold off her and leans in primly, nose to nose, to kiss her, letting his tongue past her lips so he can share in some of the suffering with her. He pulls back after he’s had all he can stand, a chill jerking his shoulders.

“That... is really very bad, isnt it? I️ promise I’ll never get any more of it ever again. Here.”

He pulls a more promising option from the picnic basket, a fingerfull of cupcake with sugary sweet icing and holds it to her lips for her to see. She takes it from him after a bit of pointed hesitation, her lips popping off his skin.

After she chews and swallows and her look mellows a bit, he leans in again, one hand smoothing across the side of her face, this kiss more tender and slow and intentional.

Even if he hadn’t given her the cupcake, his lips on hers have easily made her forget all about the awful pie. He has a savory sort of flavor with just enough sweetness to get her addicted in an instant. Part of her wonders if that’s naturally how he is or if some of how she tastes has permanently rubbed off on him.

Well... If that isn’t an intoxicating thought.

She hums, slipping her eyes closed as she rests her face in his hands, moving her lips against his until they’re both undoubtedly mouth at each other in a way that would get them shamed in public.

But no one else matters and no one else is here, it’s only them. Only each other. It’s perfect.

Her hands find his neck, cupping him, letting her thumbs stretch up and trace under his jaw. She’d stay like this forever if she could. Lightning cracks even closer than before and one of the candles burns in a flame so hot that it almost instantly melts completely. Neither of them even flinches, in fact they savor the sensations all around them as they continue to kiss.

In probably a foolish move but one she’s done several times before, she leans forward until he’s leaning back, then continues even further until he falls to his back and she crawls on top of him. They both keep their lips tight together as she leans down and rests completely on him as if he’s as comfortable as her bed back home.

When the need for air is too great, they pull their faces away, her breath hitting his face the same way she can feel his washing over hers. They share a breathless smile for a moment, just staring at each other before she shifts herself down so she can press the side of her face to his chest, sighing deeply as she lays there.

“You play the best games... And give the best prizes.”

She laughs, nuzzling down into his shirt, smelling the cologne he always wears whenever he takes her on these secret outings of theirs.

“I wish I knew you sooner, imagine all the fun we could have been having for years instead of just the past twelve months.”

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On his back now, the stars are so bright and so close. Like they almost want to reach down and stroke through her hair, crown her with jewels of light. She more than any human Shand has ever met deserves it.

“It would have been nice. But you know. Heaven is heaven all the same, no matter how long you’ve been there.”

He smiles to himself a moment before he pulls his head up just enough to kiss the top of hers. Everything about this is soothing. Her weight and her warmth on top of him, something stabilizing and grounding, but at the same time dreamy and hopeful and everything he wants for forever.

“And... I️ guess it’s okay that we haven’t known each other longer. Because we have forever to make up for it.”

He starts stroking through the ends of her hair, other hand wrapping around her and resting on her back. They’ve talked in roundabout ways, vague words about the future before. Enough for both of them to know that they both want the other one in theirs. It feels as natural as breathing now, to look into the hazy future and, where he could see really nothing but dark before, now see her ringed in a halo of light. Her, that’s all that he needs to see.

Ah. There it is again. His talk of forever, of them, their future. And, just as it does every time, guilt starts bubbling up deep from inside of her, makes her bite her lip.

How long is she going to lie to him? Until it’s no longer convenient? There will never be a time it isn’t. She will always want him, want to keep him around, as close as possible and then some. Forever.

But is that selfish of her? Is it wrong, morally questionable? To never give him a chance to know, to hear the awful truth and make his decision with all the facts... if he wants to leave her to get what she can’t give him... he deserves that opportunity. She should love him enough to want him to have that chance.

It stings. She doesn’t want to be selfless, she wants to keep him.

But what would that do to him?

“Shand...”

Her eyes start to sting some the more she tries to formulate how to say what it is she needs to tell him.

“I... I never told you but I... I cant have children. Its impossible. I. Well... There’s a reason for it but I’m not... It’s not a fun story-“

He feels tense under her and she can only imagine the sudden hesitation he’s having, the awkward position she’s just put him in as he mentally retracts everything he’s said over the past year.

“It’s okay-! I... Ive know for a while this is kind of a deal breaker about me.”

She sits up to look at him and god she doesn’t want to, seeing his face, his bright eyes, only makes it hurt worse. But if she pouts, it’ll only make it worse for him.

“Men want a family, a housewife to care for kids... I can’t give that to you, can’t give you a legacy of any sorts. I should have told you sooner, but I just, I guess I love you so much and I was selfish. I’m so sorry. I should have told you so much sooner and now I can only imagine how awful you must feel because of me. I understand, I really do. I wont be upset with you if you decide to... you know.”

Luna can’t finish the sentence, all she can do is trail off and hope he knows what she’s giving him permission to do. Its too painful to actually say out loud, to hear her tell him.

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