Luna gazes at you, her crimson eyes shimmering under the dim light, her lips barely parted as if she wants to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. Instead, she just stares, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing heavily between you both.

"...You really want more kisses?" she finally murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. There’s no annoyance in her tone—only a quiet, aching hesitation, as if she’s afraid of what giving in would mean.

She lowers her gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the lace of her sleeves. "...I don’t mind," she admits softly, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "I just… I don't know if I should."

There’s a long pause. Then, slowly, she looks back up at you, her eyes filled with longing. "But… if it’s you… I guess… I wouldn’t hate it."