A week before the attack
Luna's head rested on Nico's chest, her fingers lazily tracing the faint scars and muscles beneath his skin.
He smelled like sweat and cologne—rough but comforting. His hand moved down her back, stopping at her ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, then a light slap that made her gasp.
"You're enjoying this a little too much," she muttered, her voice muffled against him.
"Can you blame me?" Nico replied with a smirk. His hand didn't stop moving, squeezing her like she was his favorite toy.
She rolled her eyes but didn't stop him. Instead, she shifted, straddling his lap and looking him straight in the eye. "Listen to me, Nico. We don't have time for you to act like a horny teenager. You need to pay attention."
Nico chuckled, his hands resting on her thighs. "I'm all ears, babe. Go on."
