Luna didn't return home that night, and Anton couldn't sleep all throughout. He lay awake in the sitting room, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what his next steps would be.
Luna came in the next morning, calm and collected, as if the chaos from the previous night never happened.
She walked into the living room and saw Anton there. He was dressed in a plain black shirt and jeans, and she could tell he hadn't slept much. She walked right past him.
"Come with me," she said, not bothering to look back.
Anton hesitated for half a second before following her.
In her room, the curtains were drawn, the temperature was cool, the bed was perfectly made, the air lightly scented with floral air freshener.
Everything was perfect.
Luna moved to the table, pouring herself a glass of whiskey as if it was the middle of the day and not still early morning.
"You did well last night," she said finally, taking a sip.
