Kaya
"Moonchild!"
I spin on my heels at the sound of that familiar voice, and my lips immediately curve into a smile of relief. Samantha barrels toward me, still struggling to straighten out a fresh set of clothes, and the moment she reaches me, she practically leaps into my arms, locking me into a breath-stealing hug.
"Ugh, Sam," I wheeze, her hold squeezing the air right out of my lungs. "I can't breathe."
"Oh! Sorry!" She immediately steps back, hands raised in apology, though her bright blue eyes stay glued to me, scanning every inch with visible concern.
"Are you alright? How are your wounds?"
Before I can answer, she grabs my hand and spins me around like a doll, her face contorting in sympathy as her gaze lands on the bruises and bandages still marking my arms and chest.
I chuckle softly—there's something comforting about someone fussing over you this way.
