Forever Luna

Security

noun ~ the state of being free from danger or threat

POLLUX

I stayed with Antoine for only one night.

After changing into clean, smarter clothes that involved the shirt his father forced me to have, I got comfortable on the bed. Running through my phone, I avoided social media like the plague. I didn't have any, and only downloaded one because Charlie insisted on it.

It was just full of some stupid videos, anyway. Peak Charlie humour.

Humans made some strange things, but their devices were extraordinary. Phones and cameras forever astounded me. Heck, even electric was bizarre.

What had wolves accomplished?

Growling?

Being possessive?

Pissing up trees?

Snorting a laugh, I faintly heard approaching footsteps. They were lighter than Antoine's, and I glanced at the door when they came to a stop behind it. My head cocked, recognising the scent to be a young female.

This must be his daughter; Emily.

I heard her deeply inhale before her knuckles lightly rapped on the door. I mumbled an enter, and with a brief hesitation, the door handle shifted. Acting disinterested as to not intimidate her, I barely glanced at the single eye that appeared through a crack in the door.

"Are you Pollux?"

"That depends if you are Emily." I quirked an eyebrow.

The door opened more, revealing her entire figure. Her hand still clutched the handle, though, uncertain of her approach. Deep brown eyes, light freckles and soft auburn hair, she glanced around the room.

"I am." She nodded. "I'm nine-years-old."

"That's cool." I hummed. "I'm twenty-two."

"Like the Taylor song?" Her eyes widened.

I laughed softly. "I suppose so."

"Do you like Taylor?" She wondered, stepping inside.

"She's alright." I shrugged. "I don't really listen to music."

Emily gasped, her father's deep brown eyes widening at me. "That won't do!"

"It won't?" I grinned.

"No!" She shook her head.

To my surprise, she marched up to me and took my hand. With a soft tug, I rose to my feet as Emily pulled me out of the room. My gift was itching to be used, recognising the strong sense of emotion from the child. With a slight, unsure wince, I focused an inch of attention on it and instantly acknowledged the determination filling her bones.

"Where are we going?" I wondered.

"To my room." She insisted.

"Uh, are you sure I'm allowed in there?" I asked, as we stopped before her door.

"Yeah, why?" She frowned up at me.

"Well... Because... I'm a stranger?"

"You're in my house and Daddy isn't mad about that." She shook her head.

"Because... I'm a boy?" I suggested.

Her nose crinkled. "You are?"

"I am?" I cocked my head.

"Oh." She hummed. "That's cool, I guess."

"It is?"

"Yeah."