The heady smell of absinthe and sex hung in the air, and every time Luna took a breath she could smell Will on her. It was familiar, and conjured up visions of hours spent together in bed, of kissing him until she was too tired to kiss anymore, of fucking him until she fell asleep in his arm, of waking to have him again. It smelled like hunger and need and safety.
He looked so much thinner, she thought, as he cleaned away her messy makeup. That combined with the hair made her question what changes he'd been going through since she last saw him, but she didn't want to ask.
When her lips were free for speaking, Luna quietly asked, "is that what you still want? To never see me again?"