The sickened luna’s last chance

Ella

“Shit, shit, shit,” Alexander muttered, scrambling to grab some rags from the supply closet.

I dropped my bag and the crib part on the dresser and rushed to help him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just paint.”

But the paint seemed to have a mind of its own. Within moments of spilling, it had somehow already spread halfway across the floor and begun to seep into the hardwood.

We spent the next twenty minutes trying to clean up the mess, but somehow we only made it worse.

Every time we thought we had it contained, more paint seemed to appear. Alexander accidentally stepped in it and tracked green footprints across half the room. I knelt down to scrub at a particularly stubborn spot and managed to get paint all over my shirt sleeves.

“This is hopeless,” I said with a sigh, wiping sweat from my brow–which only managed to smear more

paint across my forehead. “We’re going to need professionals.”

“Or we could just tell everyone the baby’s nursery has a modern art installation,” Alexander said,

gesturing at the abstract green splatters that were now decorating the walls and floor.

I couldn’t help it. I snorted, then started laughing, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the stress of everything that had happened lately, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the situation, but something about the whole thing struck me as absolutely hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” Alexander tilted his head.

my eyes. I gestured weakly at him. “You look like

can’t possibly look that bad!” But when he looked down at himself and saw his paint–covered clothes and skin, his shoulders slumped with defeat. “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk.

to touch my hair, and sure enough, my fingers

artistic process,” Alexander said,

funnier than it should have been. The paint fumes were pretty

to where Alexander was crouched next to the overturned paint bucket, “you’re actually kind of attractive when you’re

eyebrow. “Is that

Chapter 209

+15 BONUS

I reached out and touched his cheek, leaving a small green handprint.

are you feeling

a dreamy quality to it, like I was

“Have I ever told you that you have really nice

“I… no. You haven’t.”

strong.” I leaned closer, breathing in his scent. “I bet

wanted, even though

that’s enough paint fumes for you.” He stood up and scooped me into his arms before I could

my arms around his neck. “I

“You’re acting strange.”