Iris woke with the weight of Luna's arm draped over her waist. The gray light of dawn filtered through the curtains, painting the room in hushed tones. For a fleeting second, she felt safe—warmth pressed against her back, Luna's steady breath tickling her shoulder.
Then she remembered the man by the fountain. The note. The promise of shadows drawing closer.
Her body tensed. Luna stirred immediately, tightening her hold. "You're awake," she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
"Yeah." Iris hesitated, then whispered, "I dreamed we were being chased again."
Luna pressed her lips to the nape of Iris's neck. "Because in a way, we are."
That honesty stung. But before Iris could reply, Luna pulled her closer, wrapping her in the kind of embrace that made Iris forget the world for a moment.
"Let me hold you," Luna said softly. "Just for now, let me hold you."
Iris closed her eyes. She let herself be small against Luna's chest, inhaling the faint scent of cedar and coffee that clung to her. The storm hadn't broken yet—but it would.
Later that morning, Luna suggested they step out for groceries.
"Are you sure?" Iris asked nervously as she pulled on her coat.
"More sure than staying locked up," Luna replied. Her gaze flicked briefly to the balcony door, where the memory of the note still lingered like a stain. "We live, Iris. That's how we fight back."
The small neighborhood market was bustling with chatter and the smell of fresh bread. Iris clung to Luna's hand as they wove through stalls of fruit and vegetables. For a while, it felt almost normal—Luna holding up a tomato, Iris wrinkling her nose and saying, "Too soft," both of them laughing like any other couple.
But then Iris noticed a figure two aisles down. Same black cap. Same deliberate stillness.
Her grip on Luna's hand tightened.
"I see him," Luna said calmly without looking.
"What do we do?" Iris whispered.
"Act natural. Pick the apples."
Her heart thundered, but Iris obeyed, fumbling for glossy red apples and dropping them into a bag. She could feel the man's presence like a shadow crawling across her skin.
When they finally reached the cashier and stepped out into the sunlight, Iris exhaled shakily. "He didn't follow?"
"Not visibly," Luna muttered. "But he will."
Back at the apartment, Iris slammed the grocery bag onto the counter, her voice rising despite herself.
"This isn't living, Luna! This is waiting to be hunted down!"
Luna stayed calm, putting away vegetables with precise movements. "Iris, shouting won't help."
"Neither will pretending!" Iris's throat ached with the weight of fear and frustration. "Why won't you just tell me everything? Who are they? Why are they after you?"
Luna froze with a carton of milk in her hands. For the first time, Iris saw cracks in her composure—her lips pressed thin, her eyes darkening like a storm brewing.
"They're people I escaped from," Luna said finally. Her voice was low, sharp. "People who think they own me. Who think blood ties are chains."
"Your family," Iris whispered.
"Yes." Luna set the milk down too hard. "And those who circle around them like vultures. They don't forgive betrayal. They don't forgive freedom."
Iris's breath caught. "So… the note. The man. They're here because of that."
"They'll never stop." Luna turned, her expression softening at the sight of tears brimming in Iris's eyes. "But I'll never let them touch you. That's the only truth you need."
Iris shook her head. "I need all of it. Not just pieces."
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then Luna stepped closer, cupping Iris's cheek. "And you'll have it. But not tonight. Tonight… I want you to remember we're still us. Not just shadows and fear. Us."
By evening, Luna suggested something Iris never expected.
"Let's go to the river," she said simply.
"What? With them watching?"
"That's why we blend in. They expect fear. We give them life."
So they went. They dressed casually, slipped out with the crowd of evening strollers, and made their way to the riverside. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of water and grilled street food from vendors lined along the path.
They bought skewers of grilled chicken and shared a paper cup of roasted chestnuts, sitting on a bench while the city lights shimmered across the water.
For the first time all day, Iris laughed—truly laughed—when Luna wrinkled her nose at the sticky sweetness of candied fruit.
"You're impossible," Iris teased.
"And you're too easily pleased," Luna countered, but her smile was softer than Iris had ever seen.
The closeness of their shoulders, the warmth of shared food, the illusion of normalcy—it all wove a fragile magic around them.
Iris leaned her head on Luna's shoulder. "Even if the world's chasing us… moments like this are worth it."
Luna's hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined. "Then we'll keep making them."
But peace doesn't last.
When they returned to the apartment, the door was slightly ajar.
Iris froze. "We locked it."
"Yes," Luna said grimly. She pushed Iris gently behind her, her entire body shifting into coiled readiness. "Stay close."
They entered cautiously. The lights were off. Silence pressed thick around them.
Then—a scrape. A shadow moved across the living room.
Before Iris could scream, Luna lunged. In one swift motion, she shoved Iris behind the couch and advanced. The intruder bolted toward the balcony, but Luna was faster, her movements a blur as she slammed the figure against the glass.
"Who sent you?" she demanded, her voice sharp as a blade.
The man struggled, mask slipping to reveal a scar along his jaw. "They know," he spat. "They know you're hiding here."
Iris's stomach dropped.
Luna tightened her grip, her silver eyes blazing. "Then tell them—if they come for her, they won't leave whole."
The man laughed bitterly, spat blood, and wrenched free just enough to smash his elbow against the glass. It shattered. In the chaos, he slipped through and disappeared into the night.
The apartment was left trembling in silence, shards glittering across the floor.
Iris rushed to Luna, her hands shaking. "Are you hurt?"
"No." Luna's voice was steady, but her hands trembled as she brushed glass from her clothes. "But this place isn't safe anymore."
Iris's chest tightened. "Where will we go?"
Luna looked at her, something fierce and unbreakable in her gaze. "Wherever I can keep you safe. Even if it means running again."
Iris grabbed her hand. "Then I'll run with you."
Luna's composure faltered—just for a second. She leaned down, kissing Iris hard, desperately, as though that single moment might be their last.
"Iris," she whispered against her lips, "you don't know what you're choosing."
"Yes, I do," Iris said fiercely, tears streaking her cheeks. "I'm choosing you."
And in that shattered apartment, with glass crunching underfoot and danger pressing closer, their love burned brighter than ever.