“Can I do anything?” “For what?” He blows smoke over his shoulder, away from me. “For you.” I shrug. “You’ve been doing a whole lot for me.” “This is enough,” he breathes. I frown. “But I’m not really doing anything.” “You’re alive, Luna.” He holds my gaze. “And I get to look at you and talk to you and go on dates with you. What more could I want? That’s everything to me.”
