The hug ended.
Loriel stepped back with the slightly dazed quality of someone who'd needed something badly and had gotten it, her composure returning in increments. The blush stayed — settled into her cheeks and showed no sign of leaving anytime soon.
Leon moved to the bed without pausing.
Luna watched him approach with the measured attention of someone making a final assessment before an unpleasant conversation. She'd already decided to let him see the wound clearly — let reality do the work of walking back whatever confident thing he'd said to Loriel. She didn't hold it against him. Young men said things. It was practically a universal feature. His tongue had clearly served him well up to this point, and whatever he said next to soften the situation, she'd give him credit for trying.
