*
II. A Vision Softly Creeping
The first night she stays over, she's blind drunk as she staggers through his door, her heels clacking like marbles against the unforgiving hardwood floor.
She says, "I'm taking a shower," and disappears, leaving a trail of slippery silken clothes and a hint of roses in the air (a whispered secret).
He distracts himself with a mug of hot chocolate, but his thoughts stray invariably to the girl, no, woman, naked, in his bathroom.
-
He awakes in his bed, and Luna is sitting beside him, wearing one of his off-white and tattered t-shirts (which he, until now, has had every intention of throwing away).
"Finally up, I see," she says dreamily. Then, giggling, "A few more minutes asleep and I swear you would've been attacked by an Umgubular Slashkilter."
Her skin is satin and intoxicating, imbibed with the scent of new roses after rain. Her laughter is the tinkling of crystal wind chimes (oscillating like rainbows reflected upon each facet by the tender radiance of morning sun).
Before him, she glows.
*