Swiftcurrent Creek [m] I can feel the city crumbling around me

Reverie's words were sudden, and the emotion behind them swelled over Moss like a tidal bore. The truth burst out into the open, and the momentary denial Moss has used as a refuge disintegrated like a handful of salt in swirling, warm water. Her thoughts swarmed, and she felt both the swell of jealousy and a pang of betrayal rise like magma threatening to spill through her throat and out of her mouth. She pictured the mild-mannered, stammering man, with eyes like sunflowers against a blue sky; how could he be what Reverie wanted?

Perhaps if she hadn't been so caught up in her jealousy, she might have reflected upon the first time she'd met Reverie- who had been frightened and alone, and had requested to be taken to the man that very day. How could she have been so obtuse to not suspect it then- and if she had...Then why did it feel so wrong now?

Reverie's question caught her, before she could bolt off and face up to her own humiliation. Her features softened, and something like grief pooled in, cooling the heat in her chest. 

"No." She said, softly. "You could never be ugly."