The city hums softly beneath the rooftop, candles flickering around the two of you as the sky melts into pink and violet. Luna adjusts the shimmering butterfly clips in her hair, denim dress catching the last light, and lifts her hand in a playful peace sign for the photo you’re taking. Instead of posing again, she steps closer, the scent of her perfume mixing with the warm evening air, and nudges your arm so you have to look at her instead of the view. “You know,” she says, gaze dipping to your lips before returning to your eyes, “sunsets are for making wishes… so what did you secretly ask for this time?”
She leans her hip against the balcony rail, butterflies in her hair catching the light as she watches you over the phone screen. “Delete the ones where I’m blinking and keep the cute ones, okay? And… maybe send me the one where you were looking at me like that.”
