SUN & MOON

The evening had woven its quiet spell over Nott Manor, casting the ancient estate in a twilight glow. The grandeur of the manor—its imposing stone walls and ivy that clung like the memories of long-forgotten secrets—often stood as a silent sentinel against the world outside, but tonight, it seemed to breathe with a rare kind of peace. The cool evening air, laced with the scent of blooming jasmine and damp earth, drifted through the open windows, wrapping the house in the fragrance of late summer.

A soft breeze stirred the tall hedges that lined the gardens, the whisper of leaves rustling together like the quiet conversations of ghosts long gone. Nott Manor, with its sprawling gardens, towering turrets, and labyrinthine corridors, had always been a place of solitude—a fortress where Theo could retreat from the world, a sanctuary from the shadows that followed him. But tonight, that solitude felt different, softer somehow, as if the very air had been infused with something lighter, something hopeful.

Theo stood at the edge of the garden, his hands resting in his pockets as he watched the day slowly fade into night. The last slivers of sunlight were disappearing behind the horizon, leaving the sky awash with deep purples and velvety blues, and soon, the stars would begin to peek out, one by one, casting their ancient light over the landscape.

He exhaled slowly, letting the quiet calm of the evening settle over him, but even as the peacefulness of the manor surrounded him, his mind was anything but still. The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, heavy and relentless, like the shadows that clung to the corners of his life, always there, always waiting to reemerge. Tonight, the peace of the evening felt like a fragile illusion, one that could shatter at any moment.

The garden had always been her favorite place. It was here, in the quiet corners of the estate, that she had planted her dreams—small patches of wildflowers, herbs, and plants that seemed to thrive under her care. She had insisted on creating a space that felt alive, a stark contrast to the ancient and sometimes cold halls of the manor itself. She had transformed this place, and in doing so, had transformed a part of him.

He thought of her now, somewhere inside the manor, likely tending to Lysander or lost in one of her books. She moved through his life like a breeze, gentle and constant, soothing the rough edges of his soul in ways he could hardly understand. She had brought life back into the manor, into him.

And yet, even as he stood here in the peaceful garden she had created, his chest tightened with an all-too-familiar sense of dread. His secrets—the ones he had buried so deeply—were starting to feel like cracks beneath the surface, threatening to break open at any moment. He had spent years building walls, keeping people at arm's length, ensuring that no one—especially Luna—would ever see the darkness that lay beneath.

But how much longer could he keep that up?

He clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed on the moon as it rose steadily in the sky, casting its soft, silvery light over the garden. The pale glow illuminated the pathways she had designed, winding like veins through the greenery, leading deeper into the sanctuary she had made. For a moment, he let himself imagine that everything could stay like this—peaceful, serene, untouched by the realities of the life he had once led.

But the truth was always there, lurking in the back of his mind. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would begin to question, before the lies would become too heavy to carry. He wasn't just Theo Nott, the man who had married Luna, the man who danced with her in this garden under the stars. He was also Theo Nott, the assassin, the man who had taken lives, who had walked dark paths that no one—especially not her—should ever have to know about.

The thought of her discovering the truth made his chest tighten further, as if an invisible hand were gripping his heart. What would she say? Would she still look at him with those same eyes, filled with warmth and understanding? Or would the light in her eyes dim, replaced by the coldness of betrayal?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to push the thoughts away. But they clung to him, persistent and unyielding.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the soft sound of footsteps reached his ears, and he turned to see Luna stepping through the open doors and onto the garden path. She moved with the grace of someone entirely at peace with herself, her long, flowing gown trailing behind her as she walked toward him. The moonlight kissed her skin, making her appear almost otherworldly, a creature of the night woven from stardust and dreams.

She smiled when she saw him, that serene smile that had the power to both calm and unsettle him. There was something about the way she looked at him, as if she could see beyond the surface and into the depths of his soul. It was both terrifying and comforting, and sometimes he wasn't sure which.

"You're out here again," she said softly, her voice like a whisper in the wind as she came to stand beside him. She slid her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder as she looked out at the garden. "It's beautiful tonight."

He nodded, though the beauty of the night was the furthest thing from his mind. "It is."

They stood like that for a long moment, the silence between them filled only by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant call of a nightbird. Her presence beside him was calming, but it didn't ease the turmoil in his chest.

Eventually, she spoke again, her voice quiet but steady. "You've been restless lately."

His jaw tightened. He had always known she was perceptive, that she could sense things about him that no one else could, but hearing her voice it out loud made him feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that he wasn't sure he was ready for.

"I'm fine," he said, but even he could hear the lie in his voice.

She didn't push, didn't question him further. Instead, she simply stayed beside him, her presence a gentle reminder that she was there, that she wasn't going anywhere. It was in moments like these that he both loved and feared her the most—her ability to give him space while still making him feel completely seen.

As the silence stretched between them, Theo's mind raced with the weight of his secrets. He wanted to tell her—needed to tell her—but the fear of what that truth would do to her, to them, kept him silent.

What if she couldn't forgive him? What if the darkness of his past was too much for her to bear? And worst of all, what if she decided to leave, to take Lysander and walk away from the life they had built together?

The thought of losing her, of losing his son, was unbearable. It was a fear that had been growing in him for months, slowly creeping into the corners of his mind until it threatened to consume him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it at bay.

She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes soft but questioning. "Theo," she began, her voice gentle, "whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."

The words struck him like a blow, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. How did she always know? How did she always seem to understand, even when he hadn't spoken a word?

"I can't…" he started, but his voice faltered, the weight of his emotions too heavy to give voice to. "My love, I—"

She placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and the simple gesture nearly undid him. "It's okay," she said softly. "When you're ready."

He closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't ready. Not yet. But standing there, in the garden she had built, with the moonlight illuminating the world around them, he felt something shift inside him. Maybe—just maybe—he could find the strength to tell her. One day.

But for now, he would hold onto this moment, this fragile peace, for as long as he could.

She stepped closer, her eyes drifting down to Lysander, cradled softly in her arms. His tiny fists were curled tightly against her robe, his breathing even and peaceful. She smiled, the sight of their child bringing a warmth that always seemed to settle the restlessness inside her. "It's a beautiful night," she murmured, her gaze shifting to the garden bathed in moonlight. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper carried by the gentle breeze. "Why don't we take a walk?"

Theo hesitated. The weight on his chest flared again, tightening like a vice around his lungs, a visceral reminder of the truths he hadn't spoken. His secrets seemed to claw at him, trying to surface, even though he knew tonight wasn't the time. But Luna—Luna's presence was like a balm for his soul, soothing the turbulence inside him with just a glance. The peace she exuded wrapped around him, and slowly, despite the shadows that lurked in the corners of his mind, he nodded.

She gently laid Lysander in his crib, her fingers brushing lightly across his cheek. She lingered for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his tiny chest before turning back to him. Her hand slipped into his, fingers threading together in a way that felt so natural, so right, it made his heart ache. "Come with me," she whispered, her voice carrying that unmistakable serenity that always managed to soothe the tempest raging inside him. Her touch was light, but the pull of her presence was irresistible.

They stepped out through the French doors, down the cool stone steps that led to the moonlit garden. The night air embraced them, cool and crisp, filled with the earthy scent of freshly turned soil and the sweet perfume of the flowers that bloomed under the cover of darkness. The garden was a place of magic—Luna's magic. She had created this sanctuary with her own hands, nurturing every flower, every blade of grass, until it became a living reflection of her spirit.

As they walked, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet was the only sound that accompanied them. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable; it was filled with unspoken words, with the weight of emotions too complex to give voice to. The moon hung high above, casting its silvery glow over everything, turning the world into a tapestry of shadows and light.

She led him deeper into the garden, guiding him along the winding paths she had designed, until they reached the heart of the sanctuary. There, in the center of the garden, stood the fountain—a grand marble structure that Luna had always loved. The water trickled down in a gentle, soothing rhythm, reflecting the pale light of the moon as it pooled below.

He stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze fixed on her. She stood bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, her hair catching the silver light and glowing like a halo around her. In that moment, she didn't seem entirely of this world—she was ethereal, otherworldly, a creature of the night, woven from stardust and dreams. The way the light caressed her skin, the way her presence filled the space around her with calm and warmth, made her seem almost untouchable.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly undeserving of the life he had been given. Of her. Luna, who had walked into his world of darkness and brought with her a light so bright, it had chased away the shadows that had once defined him. She had given him a family, a reason to hope, and yet he had burdened her with the secrets of his past—the lies he had crafted to protect her, the darkness he had fought so hard to keep hidden.

She turned to him, her eyes soft and full of understanding as if she could sense the turmoil inside him without him uttering a word. "Theo," she said quietly, stepping closer until there was almost no space between them. Her hand came to rest on his chest, over his heart, where she could feel the rapid beat beneath her palm. "You don't have to carry everything on your own."

Her words hit him harder than any curse ever could. He swallowed, the knot in his throat tightening as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He looked down at her, into those wide, knowing eyes, and felt something inside him begin to crack. She always did this—always knew what to say, always knew when to push and when to simply be there, offering her silent support.

"I don't know how," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, afraid that if he did, she would see everything—the darkness, the guilt, the fear.

Her hand didn't move from his chest. She stood firm, unwavering, as if grounding him to this moment, to her. "You're not alone, my Sun," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the gentle splashing of the fountain. "You've never been alone. Not since I've been here."

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. How could he explain to her the depth of his fear? The fear of losing her, of losing the life they had built together, if she ever learned the full truth of his past? He had done terrible things, things he wasn't sure she could forgive. And yet, here she stood, offering him her unconditional support, her love, without asking for anything in return.

"I don't deserve you," he finally managed to choke out, his voice rough with emotion.

Her lips curved into a small, sad smile, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. "You deserve more than you give yourself credit for," she said simply. "We all carry our burdens, Theo. But we're stronger when we don't carry them alone."

The truth of her words hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over him and dragging him under. He had always believed that he had to be strong for her, that he had to protect her from the darkness that had followed him for so long. But maybe, just maybe, Luna didn't need protecting in the way he thought. Maybe what she needed was for him to let her in, to trust her with the parts of himself that he had tried to hide.

Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world. She didn't resist. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest, and for a long moment, they simply stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the night stretching on around them.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He had said it before, but tonight, in the quiet of the garden, with the weight of his secrets pressing down on him, it felt different. It felt like a promise, a vow that he was finally ready to make.

She tilted her head up, her eyes locking with his. There was no surprise in her gaze, only a quiet understanding that made his chest ache with the depth of his feelings for her. "I love you, too," she whispered back, her voice steady and sure.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo allowed himself to believe it—to believe that despite everything, despite the darkness of his past and the shadows that still lingered, he was worthy of the love she offered him so freely. And in that moment, under the moonlight, surrounded by the garden they had built together, Theo Nott felt something he hadn't felt in years.

Hope.

"Dance with me," she said softly, turning to face Theo with a smile that seemed to reflect the brilliance of the moon itself. Her eyes, shimmering like silver pools under the starlit sky, held a quiet plea—a longing that wrapped itself around Theo's heart, making it impossible to refuse.

"Luna, I…" He faltered, his mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts. A thousand reasons came to him, each one more compelling than the last, as to why he shouldn't let himself indulge in this moment. He was supposed to be the protector—the one who stood between her and the darkness that had clung to him for so long. How could he allow himself this simple pleasure, knowing the secrets he kept? Knowing that the shadows of his past could descend on them at any moment, tearing apart the fragile peace they had built?

But Luna, as always, was a step ahead of him. Her gaze softened, and she moved closer, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Her touch, as gentle as a feather, was enough to make his heart stutter in his chest. "We're safe here, love," she whispered, as if reading the doubts swirling in his mind. Her voice was like the night itself—soft, calming, and filled with the kind of certainty that he had always lacked. "Tonight, it's just us. No ghosts from the past, no secrets. Just you and me."

His breath hitched at her words. She made it sound so simple, so possible—this idea of a life unburdened by the weight of his guilt and the darkness he had carried for so long. But her voice, the softness in her gaze, was like a spell, wrapping around him and pulling him into her orbit. Against his better judgment, he found himself surrendering to the moment.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Her body fit perfectly against his, like she had been made for him, and for the first time in a long while, Theo allowed himself to forget the weight of the world outside these walls. As they began to sway, there was no music—only the rustling of the wind through the trees and the soft hum of the fountain behind them. But it didn't matter. The rhythm of their hearts was enough.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies swaying to a melody only they could hear. The night, cool and crisp, wrapped around them like a velvet cloak, and the stars above seemed to shimmer just a little brighter in their presence. It was a moment suspended in time—untouched by reality, by the world that waited for them beyond the walls of the manor.

And yet, even as his body moved with her, Theo's mind was far from at peace. A storm raged within him, fierce and unyielding, as thoughts of the secrets he kept clawed at him, refusing to be silenced. His grip on Luna tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenching as the familiar guilt settled like a stone in his chest.

What if she knew? What if she ever discovered the truth? The man he really was—the man he had hidden from her for so long. The questions echoed in his mind, relentless, each one worse than the last. Could she ever look at him the same way if she knew? Could she love him, knowing the things he had done, the darkness he had let consume him in his past?

His heart pounded against his ribs, each beat a reminder of the distance he kept between them, even now, even as they danced under the moonlight. He had built walls around himself for so long—walls meant to keep the world out, to protect himself from being hurt again. But with Luna, those walls had started to crumble. And the more they crumbled, the more vulnerable he felt.

Luna seemed to sense the turmoil inside him. She looked up, her silver eyes searching his face, and for a moment, he felt as though she could see straight through him—past the layers of guilt and shame, straight to the heart of his soul. "You're thinking too much again," she said softly, her voice a gentle melody that pulled him back from the edge of his thoughts. "You don't have to think so hard. You're allowed to just be here with me."

Her words were like a lifeline, a reminder that here, in this moment, he didn't need to be the protector, the one who always had to have everything figured out. He could simply be with her—nothing more, nothing less. But even as she spoke, the weight of his unspoken truths pressed heavily on him, refusing to be ignored.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them. His voice was hoarse, rough with the emotion he had been holding back for so long. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, hadn't meant to burden her with the darkness that always seemed to follow him. But once the words were out, he couldn't take them back.

Her gaze softened even more, if that was possible. She didn't pull away or flinch at his admission. Instead, she reached up, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek, grounding him with her touch. "Theo," she said quietly, her voice filled with the kind of tenderness that made his chest ache. "You deserve this. You deserve every moment of happiness we have together."

His breath hitched, and he shook his head slightly, the weight of his guilt too much to bear. "You don't know," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "You don't know the things I've done… the person I used to be."

She didn't waver. She held his gaze, her eyes full of that quiet, unwavering faith she always had in him. "I know enough," she said softly. "I know you, my love. I know the man you are now. And that's all that matters."

Her words struck him like a blow to the heart. How could she be so certain? How could she look at him, knowing even a fraction of his past, and still believe in him? Still love him?

His throat tightened, and for a long moment, he couldn't speak. He wanted to tell her everything—the things he had done, the darkness that still lurked inside him. But the words stuck in his throat, tangled in the knot of fear and guilt that had been growing for years.

Luna simply waited. She didn't push him to speak, didn't demand explanations or reassurances. She simply held him, her body warm against his, her presence steady and calming. It was as if she knew that, in time, he would find the words. That he would trust her enough to let her in.

And maybe she was right. Maybe, one day, he would be able to lay it all bare—to let her see the parts of himself that he had kept hidden for so long. But tonight… tonight wasn't that night.

So, instead of words, he gave her what he could. He held her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck as they continued to sway under the moonlight. His arms tightened around her waist, his grip firm, as if he could anchor himself to her and keep the darkness at bay, if only for a little while longer.

"I love you," he whispered into her skin, the words a confession, a plea, and a promise all at once.

Luna's breath hitched, and she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I love you, too," she whispered back, her voice steady, even as her eyes glistened in the moonlight. "Forever."

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the night stretching on around them. It wasn't a perfect moment. It wasn't free of the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind. But for the first time in a long while, Theo allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be worthy of the love she offered him so freely.

And in that moment, under the stars, Theodore Nott—war-torn, haunted, and burdened by the past—found a flicker of peace in her arms.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands, her touch as gentle as always. The warmth of her palms against his skin sent a shiver down his spine, grounding him in the here and now, pulling him back from the abyss of his thoughts. "Theo," she said, her voice both firm and kind, like a quiet anchor in a storm. "You deserve love just as much as anyone else. We all have our demons, but that doesn't mean we can't have peace."

Her words hit him like a tidal wave, crashing through the fortress he had spent years building around his heart. Every stone, every barrier he had put up to protect himself from the world—and from her—seemed to crack under the weight of her gaze. For a brief, fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe her. To believe that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a dream he would soon wake from. That he could truly have this life, this love, and this family. That he could be the man Luna saw him as, instead of the monster he had always feared he was.

He studied her face, as though trying to memorize every line, every freckle illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. How could someone like her, so pure, so untainted by the weight of the world, love someone like him? The thought haunted him, even in this moment of peace. Yet here she was, standing before him, looking at him as if he were her world.

They continued to dance, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they were trying to savor every second of this stolen moment. The night air was cool against their skin, carrying with it the scent of the flowers blooming in the garden, mingling with the distant sound of the fountain's trickling water. Above them, the moon watched over their private waltz, casting a soft, silvery glow across the garden, turning everything into a dreamlike landscape.

It was just them. No enemies lurking in the shadows, no missions waiting to pull him away, no blood-soaked past creeping into the present. For this one night, he allowed himself to believe in the illusion of peace. In the quiet rhythm of their hearts beating in time, in the softness of Luna's breath as it brushed against his cheek.

He didn't deserve her. That much he knew. But as they swayed beneath the stars, her words echoing in his mind, he began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn't about deserving. Maybe it was about choosing—choosing to fight for the light even when the darkness seemed easier. She had chosen him, and in this moment, he chose her too.

Her1 fingers slid gently along his jawline, her thumb brushing the stubble on his chin as she tilted his head slightly, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes were like two pools of moonlight, filled with a quiet certainty that Theo had never known in himself. "You're not alone, Theo," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft rustle of the wind. "You never have to be alone again."

The weight of her words settled heavily in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was a comfort or a burden—this idea that someone saw him, truly saw him, and still chose to stand by his side. It terrified him as much as it soothed him, because loving her meant exposing himself in ways he never had before. But Luna was patient. She always had been

They continued to dance in the silence, the world around them a distant echo. The garden seemed to shimmer under the moon's watchful eye, the leaves of the trees swaying softly in the breeze. It felt as though time itself had slowed, bending to allow them this moment of reprieve. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Theo allowed himself to relax. He let go of the tension in his shoulders, the constant wariness in his eyes, and simply let himself be.

With Luna in his arms, the world felt less daunting, less dangerous. He could almost imagine a future—one where they raised their son in peace, where the ghosts of his past remained in the shadows and didn't come knocking at their door. He could almost taste that freedom, and it made his chest ache with the sharpness of hope.

The sound of her voice broke through the quiet. "What do you see, when you think of us?" she asked, her tone soft and curious, as if the answer mattered more than anything else in the world.

Theo blinked, caught off guard by the question. What did he see? He had spent so long imagining the worst, consumed by the possibility of losing her, that he hadn't allowed himself to dream of anything else. But now, with the scent of jasmine in the air and her heartbeat against his chest, he dared to picture it.

"I see…" He paused, unsure if he could give voice to the fragile hope forming in his chest. "I see us. Together. Here, in this garden. Lysander laughing as he chases butterflies. You, reading under the tree, and me…" His voice trailed off as a lump formed in his throat. "Me, watching you both. Protecting you. Always."

She smiled, her eyes misting with unshed tears, though her expression remained serene. "That's a beautiful vision, Theo," she whispered, her arms tightening around him. "But don't you see? You don't have to watch from the shadows. You can be with us. Right here, in the light."

Her words sent a tremor through him, shaking loose something he had buried deep within. He had spent so long in the darkness, so long believing he didn't belong anywhere near the light, that the idea of stepping into it felt foreign. Dangerous, even. But Luna was offering him more than just love. She was offering him a place in her world, a world filled with warmth and light, where he didn't have to hide anymore.

As they continued to waltz under the stars, he let her words sink in, let the possibility of a different future take root. He wasn't ready to fully believe in it—not yet. But for the first time, he wanted to try. He wanted to be the man Luna believed him to be. The man she deserved.

And for that moment, under the stars and the moon, he allowed himself to hope. To hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find peace in her arms. That the darkness wouldn't always win. That he could be more than his past.

For that moment, it was just him and her, waltzing in the moonlight, as the rest of the world fell away.