Bella's room was dimly lit by the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp. She stood by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the rain sliding down the glass like slow-moving tears.
Luna lingered by the doorway, unsure if she was intruding. "You should eat more," she said quietly.
Bella gave a dry laugh. "I'm not hungry."
"That's not an excuse," Luna said, walking closer. "You barely touched anything."
Bella turned, her eyes tired but kind. "You sound like Becca now."
"Maybe she's right."
Bella tilted her head slightly, studying her. "Why are you here, Luna?"
Luna blinked. "Because Becca said—"
"No," Bella interrupted softly. "I mean here. In my space. In my mess."
Luna hesitated. "Because I want to be."
Bella turned back to the window. "You shouldn't."
"Why?"
"Because people get burned when they get close to me."
Luna stepped nearer. "Maybe I don't mind the fire."
Bella looked over her shoulder. Their eyes met—steady, unflinching.
"You say that now," Bella murmured. "But when it hurts, when you realize I can't give you what you're looking for…"
"You mean love?" Luna asked gently.
Bella's throat worked. "I mean peace."
Luna's gaze softened. "Maybe peace isn't something you find. Maybe it's someone who reminds you it's still possible."
Bella smiled faintly. "You talk like you've known me continuously for years."
Luna's voice dropped. "Maybe I just understand heartbreak, and isn't knowing you from that Catholic school for 3 years enough"
Bella turned fully this time, leaning against the windowsill. "Do you?"
Luna swallowed. "More than you think."
Bella studied her, eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing something beneath her words. "You're holding something back."
Luna looked down, forcing a small smile. "We all are."
For a moment, the only sound was the rain and their breathing.
Then Bella sighed, rubbing her temple. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."
"Loving her," Luna said before she could stop herself.
Bella froze. "What?"
Luna's eyes lifted, steady now. "You still love Ava. I can see it in your eyes every time her name comes up."
Bella's voice faltered. "I don't—"
"Don't lie to me," Luna whispered. "You don't have to."
Bella's shoulders dropped. "It's not that simple."
"Love never is," Luna said, stepping closer until they were only inches apart.
Bella met her gaze, searching it for something—anger, pity, anything. But all she saw was warmth.
"You don't know what you're asking for, Luna."
"Then let me find out."
And before Bella could respond, Luna leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't rushed or wild—it was soft, trembling, full of fear and longing. A desperate question dressed as a kiss.
Bella stiffened, hands halfway raised… but she didn't push her away. For a heartbeat, she let it happen. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed back—slowly, uncertainly.
It was gentle but deep, a taste of everything both of them had been holding back.
Then Bella pulled away.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Luna…"
Luna's eyes glistened. "I'm sorry. I thought—"
Bella shook her head, exhaling shakily. "Don't apologize."
"Then what was that?" Luna asked, her voice breaking.
"A moment," Bella said softly. "One I shouldn't have let happen."
Luna stepped back, hurt flashing across her face. "Because you still love her? Even though she's clearly with someone else"
Bella didn't answer. The silence said enough.
Tears welled in Luna's eyes, but she forced a small, bitter smile. "You know what's funny? You keep saying you're broken, but you're the one breaking others. You have to understand she loves someone else"
Bella flinched. "Luna, that's not fair."
"No," Luna whispered. "It's not. But it's true."
She turned, walking toward the door. Bella took a step forward. "Please don't go like this."
Luna stopped, her hand on the doorknob. "You said I don't know what I'm asking for. Maybe you're right. But you don't know what you're losing either."
Bella's lips parted, but no words came.
Luna looked back one last time, her expression torn between love and pain. "Goodnight, Bella, see you tomorrow."
And then she was gone.
The door clicked shut, leaving the room painfully quiet.
Bella stood there for a long time, her reflection in the rain-streaked glass staring back at her like a stranger.
She touched her lips gently, still feeling the warmth of Luna's kiss—a warmth she hadn't expected, one that both comforted and terrified her. The last time she had tasted those lips was at the Catholic school. It was still soft and beautiful.
Outside, lightning flickered again, illuminating the sky.
Bella whispered into the silence, "I still love her, Luna. But I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending I don't feel anything else."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Down the hallway, Luna paused by the door, wiping her tears quickly before stepping into the rain outside. The sky wept with her, soft and endless.
And in the mansion behind her, Bella stood by the window, watching the storm—two hearts caught between love and what could never be.
At the same moment — The Moores' Mansion
The rain had reached the other side of the city by then, tapping gently against the wide windows of Ava's bedroom. The curtains swayed softly with the wind, carrying the faint scent of lavender and rain.
Ava had just returned from her hospital shift, her white coat still draped loosely over her scrubs. She sank onto the edge of her bed, exhaustion written across her face. Dolly followed right behind her, setting down her bag before kneeling on the carpet to help Ava slip off her heels — the same ones she had worn all day. Her fingers moved slowly, carefully, as if the simple act of touching her meant more than words ever could.
"You don't have to always care that much, you know," Ava said, her voice soft but distant.
Dolly looked up, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "We're a couple, Ava. I mean—" she paused, brushing a strand of hair from Ava's face, "—we love each other. So yes, I have every right to care."
Ava's gaze shifted away. "Right," she murmured, almost to herself.
Dolly stood and sat beside her on the sofa near the bed. The room was quiet except for the sound of rain and their breathing. She turned, her hand cupping Ava's face. "You've been quiet since we left the hospital."
"Just tired," Ava replied.
"You sure?" Dolly's thumb brushed her cheek, soft but insistent. "Or is it because she's back?"
Ava's breath caught. For a moment, neither spoke. The air grew heavy, too full of things unspoken.
Dolly's smile faded. "It is about her, isn't it?"
Ava met her gaze briefly, but her eyes were unreadable. "You're imagining things."
Dolly gave a low, bitter laugh. "I'm not stupid, Ava."
The silence between them stretched — long enough to make the ticking clock sound louder than it was. Then Dolly leaned in, her hand sliding behind Ava's neck.
"Maybe I can make you forget her," she whispered, and before Ava could answer, Dolly closed the distance.
Their lips met — familiar, practiced. Dolly's kiss was hungry, desperate for reassurance. Ava didn't resist. For a few seconds, she kissed back, eyes closed. But somewhere inside, her heart betrayed her.
She didn't see Dolly. She saw Bella.
The same warmth. The same pull she had spent years trying to bury.
Ava's fingers tightened briefly in Dolly's hair before she broke the kiss, her breath shaky.
"Dolly—"
"What?" Dolly asked softly, her tone trembling between anger and need.