"I still don't know why you're here." It's nighttime outside, and Luna is a streak of starlight in the bed beside her, silver and gold and heroic and beloved and everything that Pansy is not.
Luna props herself up on her elbows, her hair a sheet down her bare back. "Because I want to be," she says simply, for once not talking in circles that both captivate and confuse Pansy.
"But why?" she presses.
Luna hums, lost in thought for a moment. "Because love isn't something you deserve. It just is."
Throat choked, Pansy can only turn and kiss her.