Lav looked at Roo, his pale eyes searching hers for any sign of mockery or calculation. Finding none, he finally gave a brittle shrug.
"He doesn't like strangers and is not polite with them," Lav said, his voice flat. "So I or he won't be responsible for what may happen next to you when you will try to hug him. Do what you want."
Roo smiled, a small, genuine curve of her lips that reached her tired eyes. It was the smile of someone who understood that the warning wasn't about the pet; it was about the man.
Instead of rushing in, Roo lowered herself slowly to sit on the grass, putting herself on Ghost's level. She held her hand out calmly and waited. She did not force the interaction. Ghost, sensing her stillness and lack of ambition, responded instantly, giving her hand a gentle sniff before nudging his wet nose into her palm.
Roo laughed softly, a sound that made Lav feel a strange, forgotten warmth in his chest. She wrapped her arms around the big, gentle pet, resting her forehead against his soft neck.
Lav watched this interaction—this beautiful, overdressed stranger embracing his only comfort—and his rigid posture finally slumped. He knew she wasn't like the rest. He felt the truth in her touch. He realized he hadn't asked her name, nor had he offered his.
The silent moment with Ghost has cemented their connection and shattered Lav's immediate defenses. He has seen the Fairy ascend into his world.
Roo wrapped her arms around Ghost's neck, the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing settling the pet. Lav watched this pure, undefended connection, and his rigid posture finally slumped. He knew she wasn't like the rest. He felt the truth in her touch.
It was in that moment, when his focus was entirely on the beautiful peace she found with his pet, that he saw the tiny flicker. A firefly, drawn in from the dark garden, had become tangled in the fine strands of her hair near her ear.
Without thinking, driven by a deep, subconscious compulsion to release anything that was trapped, Lav lifted his hand. His fingers brushed against her hair—soft, silken, and far too close to her delicate skin. He carefully extracted the glowing insect, his eyes tracking its soft light.
The instant his skin made contact with hers, a quiet, sharp vibration sparked through both their bodies. Roo straightened abruptly, the sound of her breath catching in her throat, and their eyes locked. Her gaze, which had been empathetic, was now electrified.
Lav, completely startled by the visceral reaction, dropped his hand instantly and looked away awkwardly, his face coloring beneath his stubble.
"There was a firefly in your hair," he muttered, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I set her free. I don't like seeing anyone caged."
Roo stared at him, still vibrating from the unexpected contact, comprehending the symbolism of his action and his words instantly. She turned back to Ghost, gently stroking the pet, and replied softly, the words barely audible in the quiet air of the garden.
"Then you should set yourself free first."
Lav froze. He looked back at her, his haunted eyes wide. She hadn't just seen his pain; she had defined his prison.
The noise of the wedding seemed to rush back in, suddenly loud and intrusive. Roo stood up, gave Ghost one last pat, and walked away, back toward the blazing lights and the waiting toxicity of her life. Lav remained seated, stunned, the scent of her hair and the phantom warmth of her skin still on his fingers.