A grey torpor wrapped around me. I had lost all taste for everything. Everything seemed dull, blurry, too heavy. Even breathing felt like a burden. My bed had become my only refuge, a cocoon both protective and suffocating.

Nessa came to see me from time to time, gently knocking on the door, asking if I was okay, then leaving, as usual, off to chase ghosts and mysteries.

I envied her carefree spirit.

Her ignorance, most of all. She didn’t see the shadows. She didn’t feel their presence. She didn’t carry their weight.

I was there, lying down like an empty shell, unable to think or feel anything other than this sense of inner abandonment.

I decided to stop searching. What’s the point? Every answer I hoped for was just a mirage, every truth, a new abyss. My curse is neither to be understood nor defeated. The more I dig, the more I lose myself. It’s no longer a quest — it’s a fall. A slow drowning in a bottomless pit. I torture myself trying to understand something that, maybe, has no meaning. As if it were all a cruel trap... meant to break me.

Luna, my faithful Luna, was perched on the windowsill. Her small paws rested on the glass as she stared outside, as if something intrigued her.

I slowly turned my head toward her and followed her gaze.

The Scottish spring bathed the landscape in a pale, gentle light.

The hills in the distance still looked sleepy from winter, scattered with mist. The trees were budding timidly, somewhere between grey and tender green. The wind blew in soft gusts, carrying the first wildflowers with it. It was beautiful — a melancholic, almost fragile kind of beauty.

I sighed.

Maybe going outside would help…

I got up slowly and traded my pajamas for comfortable clothes.

Luna began scratching at the door, impatient.

She could’ve gone through it, of course — she had never really been limited by walls — but when she acted like a simple cat, it was her way of telling me she wanted me to come with her.

I smiled faintly and crouched to gently stroke her head.

“Thank you for being here, Luna. Without you… I probably would’ve already lost my mind.”

She meowed in response — a soft, soothing sound.

Luna wasn’t just a cat.

I knew that from the moment we met.

She appeared to me just after one of those nightmares that feel too much like memories. She emerged from the fog.

Since then, she had never left my side.

She followed me everywhere, crossed shadows without fear, slept beside me when the memories became too heavy, and meowed softly whenever an invisible presence watched me.

Sometimes, she seemed to see what I hadn’t yet.

Or sense what I refused to accept.

I had often wondered if she was a guardian spirit, a familiar, or even a manifestation of the little light I had left inside.

But I never asked her. Maybe because I was afraid of the answer.

As I closed the door behind us, Luna rubbed against my leg, then walked down the hallway, scanning the surroundings with strange attention.

I could feel her energy slowly circulating around me, like an invisible cloak. She was my anchor — the one who kept me from sinking fully into the darkness of my mind.

Her mere presence calmed the frantic beating of my heart.

I sat for a moment on the building’s steps, and she curled up against my thigh.

Her warmth brought me back to the present moment.

“You really see me, don’t you?” I whispered.

Not what others think they see... not the weird or cursed girl... but me.

She looked up at me, then placed her paw on my knee, as if to say “Always.”

A shiver ran down my spine. But it wasn’t fear.

It was... recognition.

She was my silent mirror. My link between this world and the other.

Between who I was, who I am... and who I could become.

And even if everything else fell into darkness, as long as she was there, I knew I wasn’t alone.

It was around ten in the morning, and the chill gently bit the skin like a damp, vivid caress.

The air smelled of wet grass and dark earth. A thin mist still rose from the cobblestones, as if the ground were exhaling the night’s memories.

Each breath filled my lungs with invigorating air — a blend of moisture, moss, and distant salt carried from the hills.

The wind whispered between the trees like an ancient murmur, playing with my hair, lifting the dead leaves still clinging to the corners of the walls.

I didn’t regret following Luna.

She was the one who pulled me out of bed, out of my dark thoughts. She walked with quick, purposeful steps, as if she knew exactly where to go.

I followed her with my camera in hand, taking pictures along the way.

The campus looked different under that pale morning light — almost unreal.

I already knew the angles, the lines, the colors — but each shot felt new, transformed by the hour, by the silence, by my changed perspective.

I captured ordinary details: delicate rust on a bench, condensation on the windows of a shelter, the reflection of a twisted tree in a puddle.

And Luna kept walking.

She would sometimes stop, waiting for me, then move on as soon as I caught up.

She was taking me somewhere, I was sure of it.

We crossed the back courtyard and there, around the corner of an old wall, I saw it.

A greenhouse.

It stood at the far end of the grounds, almost hidden by overgrowth.

The iron frame was covered in opaque glass, cracked in several places.

Moss crept along the beams, and the exterior looked like it had been swallowed by a miniature jungle.

Entangled, wild, forgotten plants.

Vines hung like abandoned hair, and the soil looked starved for attention.

A breath escaped my lips before I even realized it.

And suddenly, I was running.

My feet slapped against the wet stones, and my heart raced.

A wide smile stretched across my face. I hadn’t felt that in weeks.

Maybe months.

“Would they let me fix it?” I whispered aloud.

Would the secretary agree to let me take care of it? To bring this forgotten place back to life?

I turned to Luna, brighter than ever.

“Thank you, Luna.”

I knew I had taken my camera to distract myself.

But nothing... nothing soothed my heart like gardening.

The soil between my fingers.

The silence of plants.

The slow, living rhythm of nature.

Luna sat down and stared at me.

Her gaze had that strange intensity, as if she were judging me.

Then she turned her head, nose up, in a little feline pout.

I chuckled softly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, crouching to scratch her head.

“You always knew, didn’t you? That this is where I needed to be.”

She meowed softly, like a reply... or a “Told you so.”

I took several pictures of the greenhouse from different angles, capturing the details of the cracked windows, rusted frames, and overgrown plants.

Not just to remember.

To imagine. To prepare a plan.

I wanted to know exactly how to renovate it, how to redecorate it, what plants to grow inside...

I wanted to give myself the best chance possible so the administration would agree to let me take care of it.

That greenhouse—it felt like an old, still-beating heart, a forgotten sanctuary just waiting to come back to life.

As I slowly stepped inside, my footsteps crunching on the damp gravel, I kept taking pictures...

And that’s when I saw him.

A young man stood at the far end of the greenhouse, almost hidden behind a bush of ferns and a table covered with tools.

He was sculpting a statue directly from the stone.

His movements were precise, gentle yet powerful, as if he were shaping something sacred.

He looked to be in his early twenties.

His golden hair, tied back in a low ponytail, reminded me of sunlight filtering through the broken glass panes.

His emerald green eyes gleamed with an almost supernatural intensity, focused on every detail of his sculpture.

His fair, slightly sun-kissed skin seemed to catch the light, as if he radiated a golden aura.

Tall and slender, his body was that of both an artist and a warrior—lean, muscular, athletic, and graceful.

I froze, breathless.

There was something almost unreal about him, a vibrant energy, as if he carried the raw light of the noonday sun within him. A presence impossible to ignore.

And yet… something inside me faltered.

A shiver ran through me—an odd, unsettling feeling that I’d seen him before. Not in a street, not in a dream. Deeper than that. As if his face had been etched somewhere inside me, in a place I had forgotten.

Beauty like his is unforgettable. It’s impossible.

So why did I feel like I already knew him?

Almost without realizing it, my hand rose, guided by an impulse I couldn’t control.

I grabbed my camera, aimed… and captured the moment.

That’s when Luna walked toward him.

She moved with slow, almost ceremonial steps, then gently rubbed against his legs.

I blinked, confused.

Since when did Luna act like a real cat around another human?

"Hey there," he said, wiping his hands on a worn-out towel before picking Luna up in his arms.

She purred, peaceful, happy.

I had never seen her that relaxed with anyone but me.

Never.

He lifted his head, as if checking whether someone was watching.

Panicked, I ducked behind a row of dusty flower pots.

My heart was pounding in my chest.

I couldn’t believe it.

Luna… my Luna, that elusive spirit, that supernatural guardian… was being cuddled like an ordinary ball of fur!

How was that possible?

Who was this boy that she accepted him so easily?

I discreetly peeked between the large leaves to check...

But they were gone.

I turned my head quickly—left, right... nothing.

My breath quickened. I took a step back, hands trembling.

"Hi."

I jumped violently—the voice had come from right behind me.

My body jolted, my shoulders tensed, and I nearly dropped my camera.

I spun around abruptly, my heart beating wildly.

And there he was.

A faint smile playing on his lips.

He was even more beautiful up close.

And it wasn’t ordinary beauty.

It was the kind of face that makes you forget how to breathe.

The kind of presence that makes time slow down, the air feel heavier, and your heart beat in sync with his.

As if every feature of his face had been sculpted from light.

His green eyes met mine, and it felt like falling into a deep lake—peaceful, yet unfathomable.

I was speechless.

My thoughts were spinning, my body refused to move, and my lips spoke before my brain had a chance to stop them.

"You’re beautiful."

A soft, radiant smile lit up his face.

A dangerously beautiful smile.

"Thank you," he replied simply, his voice warm like autumn sunlight.

I flinched, stepping back, my cheeks on fire.

A wave of heat rushed to my face so quickly it made me dizzy.

I instinctively brought my hand to my mouth, as if trying to pull my words back, to rewind time.

"No... I… I meant to say 'hi'," I stammered, lowering my eyes, desperately trying to hide my burning blush.

The ground offered no refuge.

Even the plants seemed to be watching me with amusement.

I didn’t dare look up, fully aware I was already trapped between embarrassment… and awe.

He laughed softly, a light, spring breeze kind of laugh. Not mocking. More like… fond.

He took a step closer—not enough to invade my space, but enough that his aura brushed against me, warm and golden like a current.

"It’s the first time someone’s greeted me like that. It’s refreshing," he said with a smile, his eyes playful but sincere.

He paused for a second, then added, still with that calm, smooth voice that flowed over me like warm honey:

"You don’t have to be ashamed of what you feel… especially when it’s beautiful."

His words froze me.

He had said it so simply… as if seeing beauty and expressing it were as natural as breathing.

I looked up at him timidly, caught between embarrassment, fascination… and a strange feeling.

As if this stranger could see beyond my skin, beyond my secrets.

As if he knew something… that I didn’t yet.

Luna, still curled up in his arms, lifted her head toward me and meowed softly, almost as if to reassure me.

He followed her gaze and said:

"She really likes you, you know. Beings like her don’t trust just anyone."

He gently set her down on the ground.

"And well… she’s got good taste."

His smile widened slightly, and I thought my heart might stop.