Luna hasn’t picked the letter up yet.

Caelus can feel the whine in the back of his throat start to build. His fluffy ears are back and his fluffier tail is-just a little - between his legs. He’s nervous and excited and scared and really everything at once as he watches her from the edge of the opening into the staff room.  But he swallows everything back down, because if she hears him and notices him...well, he might just die of embarrassment right then and there.

“...For...me?”

AH!

He clamps both hands over his mouth and wills his stupidly loud heart to not jump out of his chest when he hears her soft, quiet murmur and sees her finally make a move toward her wood locker. They all have one, in alphabetical order. Just a small wooden shelf of their own that sits above a hook for their coats and bags. His is near the far left, next to Abel’s and it has the first aid kit she’d made up for him. 

(To the others it had been a mystery who it was from, but he smelled her on it, he’d known. Wolf-folk had the best noses of Beast-Walkers after all.)

But hers…

In her locker, he’d taken the quick moment to decorate with all the flowers he could find before he got into the Post Office. He was sure Mrs McRaval would hate him if she ever found out. But it was for a good cause, because Luna loved flowers. He did, too. 

So as he hears her unfold the letter and begin to read the scent of wisteria washes over him along with her own light scent. He waits and prays to whoever’s listening to just-

Please!

Please!

Her breath hitches.

His heart stops.

Does she like it?

Does she hate it?

What if she hates it?

He risks a look around the corner only to see her holding the letter to her chest, looking out into space, the normally apathetic air erased by the red that pinks to the edge of her ears and the thundering of her heart.

She’s teary, but smiling and it gives him hope.

“I wonder... ," she whispers, turning the paper in her hands delicately- as if it would shatter, "I wonder who sent you...”

....Wait.

Wait. WHAT?