Always Luna

comfort

noun ~ a state of physical or emotional ease and freedom

My feet crunched lightly over the stoned pebbled path, my hand grasping Phoenix's hand for support.

"I had the garden made ready for the spring." His voice murmured.

I clutched his hand in response, my eyes too wide and greedy as they took in all the details. I took my time observing the large planter and freshly turned dirt, nothing but the sound of my feet and crickets nearby.

Finally stopping by the front door, my hand rose to trace the intricate detail of wood grain. It was dark wood, most likely preserved to last, the top of it a smooth arch that allowed just enough room for Phoenix. A smooth golden door knocker sat in the middle, the shape of a wolf's head, of course. My hand moved lower until it sat on the single round knob at the side of the door.

"Are you ready to go in?" Phoenix asked after a long silence of me staring at the door.

I blinked, glancing up at him. I felt nervous and jittery and I wasn't sure why.

"Please." I whispered.

He grinned. "You have to open the door first, Nova."

A bashful blush flooded my cheeks, and I tightened my grip on the handle. About five seconds passed before Phoenix groaned and wrapped his hand around my own to twist the handle. The door felt heavy, but whatever hinges he had secured it with took most of the weight as the door swung open.

I didn't know where to look.

The door opened softly, soft yellow light flooding the space before me. If it wasn't for Phoenix's hands holding me, I was sure it would be a dream. He nudged me forwards by my lower back and I hesitantly took a step through the threshold.

The floor was hardwood, the same shade and grain as the front door, only it seemed to be covered with something to have a smooth surface. My feet echoed slightly in the quiet home and once I was in far enough, one of Phoenix's hand's left my waist to shut the door softly behind him.

"Wow." I breathed.

The living area was all open plan, stretching further and going higher than I expected. I thought the upstairs was the third window at the top, but it was just extra head room to let in glorious sunlight. Was everything on one floor? To my right was the sitting space and, to my astonishment, I was greeted with the familiar sight of an old friend.

"Is that the same sofa as the cosy room?" I squeaked.

"When I knew how much you loved the sofa, I bought you the same one."

I squealed, running over to throw myself on it. Phoenix grumbled as I bounced, warning me of the babies, but I was too overjoyed as I sank into the soft grey cushions. I sighed softly, my eyes closing as I breathed in the scent of cinnamon. A light smack came to my rear, and I peaked one eye open to see Phoenix stood at the opposing part of the corner sofa, pink pillow in hand.

He smirked at me. "Come on. You can't stop when you've not even looked around."

I giggled but agreed, pulling myself to sit upright. My feet fell into a cream shaggy rug and I took my shoes off in fear of destroying it. It was soft under my toes and I hummed in satisfaction. Before me was more carved wood in the shape of a coffee table, a bowl of pot-pourri in the centre. That must be the cinnamon smell.

Standing from the sofa, I walked to observe my surroundings. In the far corner of the room was the television and two side lights hung from the wall, emitting the soft orange glow. Above me was a ceiling light, wrapped in a white lampshade. Behind me was a wooden sideboard set against an exposed wood wall, two photo frames filled with candid pictures of the two of us.