The last remaining dusk fades as sun rays disappear behind thick wooden trees. Moonlight filters through the smallest gaps between leaves dozens of feet above the ground as Lunar stirs beneath its illuminating glow. He squints weakly at the gentle radiance, leaning into its touch like a lover's caress. A lazy smirk forms on his lips at the sudden realization.

Ah, he had failed to wake up before her... again.

It wasn't entirely his fault. The lunar eclipse phenomenon demanded his power to manifest, and without his intervention, he might have failed his primary purpose in this mortal realm. Flashbacks of last night remain vivid in his mind—the way he stumbled through dense undergrowth, crimson aura flickering dangerously. The eclipse had been taxing, exhausting even. The raw power wielded and emotions channeled left him drained, hollowed out. His usual strength, the comforting weight of his own power, felt like a distant memory.

The sensations faded as the last vestiges of the eclipse vanished from the sky. Exhausted and power-depleted, Lunar had stumbled back to his domain—a deep, ancient forest cloaked in perpetual twilight where the air hangs thick with scents of damp earth and the rustle of unseen creatures. Though the memory brings a wince at the residual pain in his back, as if tons of boulders had weighed on his spine for hours, he pushes the thought aside with another groan.

Now wasn't the time for such reflections. Where was his goddess? The moon had risen perfectly above the horizon, meaning she was probably out fulfilling her duties. She was so exceptionally good at her role—too good. He might actually have to set aside his pride and dignity to ask for advice, simple questions about how she maintained such consistency every night.

The truth was, he adored her. He might actually perish one day from the overwhelming intensity of his adoration.

Lunar rises suddenly, following the familiar path to the place he suspects she might be. His boots crush fallen dried leaves, the sound announcing his presence as he moves through the twilight forest. A sliver of moonlight pierces the canopy, illuminating a small clearing and taking his breath away—not from the moon itself, but from the sight before him.

There she sits on her favorite boulder, hands raised toward the moon as if guiding her precious child to rise from its hiding place. It's a view he treasures above all others.

Lunar's cloak flutters in the gentle wind as he stands frozen like a marble statue, simply relishing the scene before him. A familiar lump forms in his throat and he swallows visibly before finally stepping from his hiding spot.

"An early riser, aren't you?" he asks with a charming grin, internally praising himself for keeping his voice steady. "Though... I actually hoped I might wake up with you by my side."

Dear Olympus, he's becoming utterly helpless where she's concerned.