The first time Eliot saw Luna in daylight, he thought he was dreaming.
She stood across the street from the campus bookstore, wearing the same pale blue dress she always wore in the dream cabin, hair curling softly over her shoulders, a canvas bag slung loosely over her arm.
Eliot froze. His heart stuttered. Sunlight shimmered around her as if reluctant to touch her. For a moment, the entire world felt muffled.
She turned her head. Smiled.
And walked away.
He followed.
She led him through the edge of campus, down an alley behind the faculty building, then into the old greenhouse that no one used anymore. He pushed the door open, half-expecting it to vanish, like a mirage.
But there she was, sitting on a bench surrounded by overgrown ivy, sunlight cutting across her face like a spotlight. Her skin looked real. Her breath steamed slightly in the chilled glasshouse air.
"You're not supposed to be here," he whispered.
She tilted her head. "I wasn't. But you changed that."
He stared. "How?"
"You gave me enough."
"Enough what?"
She reached out and took his hand. Warm. Soft. Familiar.
"Enough belief. Enough love. Enough of your mind."
He couldn't move.
"It started small," she said. "The dreams. Then the touch. Then the pain. Now this. You made me real enough to cross over."
"No." He pulled back. "This can't be real."
"It is for me," she said softly. "Isn't that enough?"
He backed away. His thoughts were static, white noise crashing in his ears.
"I'm not supposed to exist," she said. "I'm not asking to stay forever. Just to live. Really live. And for that, I need you. One last thing."
She stood slowly. Reached into her bag. Pulled out a small box. Opened it.
A knife.
Thin. Surgical. Clean.
Eliot's breath caught.
"Just a little," she whispered, stepping closer. "Just a few drops. A signal. Your energy has always been the thread. Let it anchor me."
"No."
"You promised," she said. "You said you'd give me everything. Do you remember?"
"I didn't know what that meant."
Her eyes shimmered. Not angry. Not cruel. Just desperate.
"If you love me, let me exist."
He dropped to the floor. Palms to his temples.
"This isn't love."
"It's more than love. It's creation."
She knelt beside him. Took his hand. Slipped the knife into his fingers.
He trembled.
She leaned close. Her lips brushed his ear.
"Please, Eliot. Set me free."
And something inside him broke.
He pressed the blade to his skin.
Slow.
He felt her arms wrap around him, gently, lovingly. Her breath at his neck.
"You're doing so well."
The pain bloomed. The warmth ran down his hand. Everything blurred.
"I love you," she whispered.
"Luna..."
His voice cracked. He couldn't finish the sentence.
Just before everything faded, he looked up.
She was glowing. Her outline was clear, radiant. Real.
She touched his cheek.
"I can feel you," he murmured. "You're real."
She smiled.
"You finally gave me a body."
And she kissed him.
Then everything went dark.