She bites her lip and nods. “Probably.” Her eyes are already darker, full of that fire I know so well.
One of the things I love about Emma is how much she wants me. Like, reallywantsme. It’s not just me going crazy for her—she’s right there with me. Every time.
It’s this thing between us. Intense. All-consuming. Like we’re addicted to each other’s skin.
It doesn’t matter where we are; we are always tangled.
Animal love.
Yeah, it’s that.
And I don’t want it to stop.
The weekend’s here, and I’m walking barefoot along the beach, phone pressed to my ear, listening to my sister ramble about everything going on in New York.
Part of me wonders if coming here was the right choice. She needs someone to guide her. And spending every day withSilas Walkeris definitelynothelping her see things clearly.
I let the waves kiss my toes and breathe deeply, letting the ocean air fill my lungs with salt and oxygen and something that feels like... peace.
The heat. The humidity. The breeze. Miami, in all its sticky, glowy glory, feels perfect today.
I couldn’t stop myself from asking Luca that question last week. I was desperate. I needed to hear it. And yet his answer only brought more confusion, more ghosts from the past, more ache I wasn’t ready to unpack.
But he didn’t even need tosaythe words. His eyes spoke for him. And what I saw wrecked me. So much loneliness hiding behind that deep, ocean-blue gaze. So much pain. And God, itshattered me. Just remembering it now makes my chest feel cracked and raw.
I end the call with Lauren, feeling that guilt-heavy mix of sisterly worry and helplessness. I glance at my phone and spot a new message.
Gargoth:
Is happiness essential?
His questions always throw me off—quiet little thought bombs. And somehow, I can’t help answering.
Talking to strangers is supposed to be risky, I know. But this feels harmless. He doesn’t know my name, where I live, nothing real. It’s just words. And it feels… safe.
Love Lamb:
It’s necessary, definitely. But not constant. Happiness only shows up when it wants to.
Gargoth:
When was the last time you felt it?
The image slams into me before I can block it.
Luca. Sliding a ring onto my finger. Whispering promises against my lips. That night. His hands. His voice. Our bodies—whole and tangled and full of belief.
How canthatbe the last time I remember feeling happiness? Years ago. Lifetimes ago. Why ishestill the memory that sticks?
Love Lamb:
More years ago than I want to admit. You?
Gargoth:
Same.
God.Who are you, Gargoth?
