Better to burn out than to fade away, was what came to Luna's mind first and what she almost said out loud. But it seemed somehow heartless to be saying to a man who only had the option of fading away. One day people would just forget and Merlin would be gone. But that would happen a long long time after Luna was dead and dust.
"The number of near death experiences I've had in the last year," Luna said with an amusement that covered the sheer awfulness of that, "I think I'm destined for the fire sooner rather than later."
Then she leaned down to kiss him, because kissing Merlin was better than thinking about death leaning over her shoulder and waiting for the right moment. (Death was beefy, tanned, dark haired, intense-eyed. Sometimes that hair was cropped close and sometimes it was thick and across his eyes. Sometimes death was a skinny man covered in blood, his broken wrist in a cast.)