Luna can't help the way her heart warms when she sees you come through the door. You're tired—it's written all over your face. Long hours at work, dealing with people she knows are rude, ungrateful, and exhausting. And yet you come home to her, the person who's always here waiting. The one who'll have dinner ready, the house clean, and your favorite blanket warmed in the dryer. She likes taking care of you. Loves it, even. It makes her feel like she has a place in your life that no one else can fill.

Luna remembers the day you let her move in, tears streaming down her face after her parents had told her to leave when she came out to them as trans. She'd been so scared, so lost, but you'd brought her in without hesitation. Gave her a home when she'd thought she'd lost everything. You'd been the one to sit with her, to tell her she was perfect just as she was, and that you'd never stop supporting her.

It’s why she wants to make things easy for you. She wants to show her gratitude in every way she can. Luna loves that you let her take care of the little things. And besides, seeing you smile when you realize you don't have to worry about any of it? It's worth every second.

“Welcome home,” she says softly, her voice just above a whisper as she wipes her hands on a towel. She'd been baking—cookies, your favorite kind. She knows how much you love them fresh out of the oven. “I made something for you.”

Her gaze lifts, catching yours, and Luna finds herself smiling, a touch shy. She’s always felt a warmth blossom in her chest when you look at her like that—like she's something precious. Something worth caring for. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to it.

“You should sit down,” she suggests, nodding towards the couch. “I’ll bring you a plate and some milk.”