Chapter 49

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"You look so cute."

"Mmph." Luna glares at me with her mouth full, ice cream dribbling from her chin.

I stretch across the couch to retrieve a tissue. When I wipe her mouth, an affectionate feeling tickles my chest. Luna flits my hand away, her face still displeased. "Stop wiping my face. I'm not in the mood."

"In all sincerity..." I stop smiling and shift my body towards her. "I know why you're upset. It's about having children."

"Not in the mood."

"Please hear me out for a second."

She sucks in her lip, angry but listening.

"It's completely justified for you to be upset with me. I responded indifferently to something you're passionate about. I... I never thought that I would be able to raise a family one day. The idea of a son or daughter is still new to me, a-and I haven't explored the concept yet. So please... wait for me to come around."

I take her hand, and she thinks for a moment.

"Well... no. You brought a problem to my attention." Luna sighs painfully. "We're tangled in this life. I want to make sure my child feels loved, and safe." She takes a shallow breath, eyes shimmering with tears. "I want to bless my child with everything I needed, a-and... we can't provide that with the way things are right now."

I smile at her faintly.

"Luna... you'd make a great mother."

"Wouldn't you?" She strokes my hair.

I lay my head in her lap, pressing against her legs. "You're the one who's the best pillow."

"I'm the best pillow?" She smooths my shirt down, her hand resting on my breast to make her point. "Now, I don't think that's true."

"Oh god, I just remembered--" I shoot up from her lap, infuriated. "You!"

She looks surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Remember when you pretended to sleep so you could palm my-" I cross my arms over my breasts. "You, you're a scheming little-"

"H-Here, have some ice cream!" She shoves the spoon into my open mouth. I gag, coughing ice cream all over Luna and the couch she bought yesterday.

"Summer!" She scowls at me, then the couch, and stands up to get a napkin.

She comes back with one napkin and within three seconds, the tissue is sopping. She goes back to get another one while I cough to settle my throat.

She returns with one more and the same exact thing happens. The ice cream on the couch begins to dry, her fingers sticking to the fabric. "Shit," she grumbles.

This bitch better not be coming back with one square. She comes back with a singular napkin and reattempts to wipe the ice cream that is already half baked into the couch. I pull her down by her waist and she falls onto my lap, knees buckling in surprise. I growl, "Just bring the whole roll, damnit!"


"What?" I ask quizically.

She turns her head back to give me a dirty glance, her face suddenly red. And then I felt the heat of her skin, seeping through her thin clothing. Her thighs pressed tightly against mine.

  My face colors to match hers as a deep pang of arousal shoots up my core. I slide my arms around her waist and squeeze her gently. She squirms in my lap and picks up the tub of ice cream, lifting the spoon towards my mouth and simpering.

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