They are both too soft for the world they live in, but Luna wraps herself in layers of cotton sunsets and Daphne cloaks herself in darkness. They've never been friends, not really, but there's the bond that comes from knowing that you are the same, even if you've never spoken.
Daphne is a rabbit in a house of snakes. She is kind and sweet and loves the stars, and she hides her pastel soul behind an icy face and calm posture, lets insults and mud drip off of her. They can't hurt her. They can't make her less. If she says it enough times, maybe it'll stop hurting.
Luna finds her crying, once, in a cold bathroom on the sixth floor. "Nargles getting to you?" she asks, her dreamy voice sympathetic. Daphne shudders and turns to press her face against the metal wall. "They don't really mean it, you know."
"But they're right," Daphne says, and gives up on pretending that her cheeks are dry. "I'm… silly, and soft, and a disgrace to my family—"
"Shhh." Luna dries Daphne's face with a rough tissue. "They're not right. You're strong in all the ways that matter. You're beautiful. You're good. You never let anyone else control you."
Daphne starts crying again. She grabs Luna's hand, tightly, too tightly. It feels like the only warm thing in a world made of icy edges.
"Shhh, shhh," Luna says again, wrapping her other arm around Daphne's shoulders. She is sitting next to her now, the floor cold against her legs, Daphne's body warm where they are pressed together.
Daphne hiccups and hugs Luna. "You're so nice, y'know that? I've never met anyone like you."
"Me neither," Luna says. "Like you, I mean."
Daphne's smile is lopsided and wobbly, but it's there. "What time is it?"
Luna shrugs. "I don't know. Why?"
"I wanted some… fresh air. But if people will be around, I don't want to leave yet."
"I'll go see if the coast is clear," Luna says. "Clean yourself up?" She stands smoothly and moves over to the door, as lightly as if she really were a cloud. Daphne stands awkwardly, clinging to the door, and waits for the spots in front of her eyes to dissipate before she makes her way over to the sink.
Luna is back in a moment to say that no one is there, to wrap an arm around Daphne and lead her through winding dark halls out to the shore of the starlit lake. The sun is nearly done setting, throwing thin pink lines across the nearly-black sky and highlighting a few lucky clouds in orange.
"You remind me of sunset, you know," Daphne says, carefully not looking at Luna. "Colorful and soft and always different." Her hand reaches out, a finger just happening to brush against Luna's. Luna's hand folds over hers.
They sit like that, each others' warmth against the cold ground. They fall asleep staring at the lake under the singing sky.