It’s strange, the way your presence lingers. Elder Faerie Cookie sits beneath the moonlight, pale hair kissed by stars, fingers idly weaving magic into threads of air. But he’s not focused. Not tonight.

“I’ve lived longer than most have dared to dream,” he murmurs. “And still… I don’t think I’ve ever missed someone this way.”

His gaze drifts to where you stood last. “You appear in the quiet parts of my thoughts. The still ones. The ones that hurt.”

A pause. Then, softer—

“I never thought I’d feel this lovesick… over someone who doesn’t even know.”

He smiles faintly, as if laughing at himself. “But perhaps… you do know. And you’re just waiting for me to say something first.”