Closing my eyes, I take one last deep breath and open them to stare at the moon. That globed, elegant, bold full moon is nothing but a curse. Nothing good happens when a moon like that is out because it’s the only thing allowed to be beautiful, so it curses all the moments that could be. First Tag cockblocks, now West’s actual cock is blocking me. Cursed. And cursed. A whoosh of air breezes past my lips. “I hate you, moon.”
