Swiftcurrent Creek My girl don't want me cause of my dirty laundry

It was not Reverie's words that brought Moss's warmth back, but the sight of Blossom. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she felt an ugly twist of her own jealousy — because Blossom was hers, and so was Moss. She looked away, falling silent now, a quietly-seething storm of emotion. Maybe Blossom sensed it, because she started to stir after a few moments.
Reverie kissed the girl's forehead idly. She wanted to cry. All she'd wanted was to feel desired, and instead she felt criticized and cast aside. She wanted to sleep; she wanted to run; she wanted Lestan, more than anything.