We watched the stars all day long, spoke of the constellations and stories of old. He would whisper secrets of the world that no mortal knows, tell me tales of Gods chasing beautiful stars and Goddesses fighting to be the best. I listen to this the way I would devour a book in the library, hungry for knowledge and the thrill of a new discovery.
All of this we do while lying on the tall grass, holding each other as gold and pink creeps into the sky and the temperature cools.
But of course, we can’t possibly stay in the meadows forever. My stomach was rumbling and the God of the Moon has responsibilities that he’s been pushing aside for me.
“You must be tired from hearing me talk of old tales.” He presses his lips against the side of my face. “Am I talking too much?”
The warmth of him
