"My little star!" her mother exclaimed when she saw her, her face lighting up with pure joy.
She extended a hand toward Luna, inviting her.
And then it began.
The usual storm of praise...
"My beautiful girl, my perfect treasure, my brilliant light," her mother took her in her arms, spinning her in the air while Luna screamed half laughter half mortification. "You're the most precious thing that exists in the whole world. You're more beautiful than the stars, brighter than the twelve moons together!"
The words tumbled out in a torrent. Exaggerated and dramatic, but completely sincere despite sounding like dialogue from a romantic play.
"Mom," Luna had protested, her face burning with embarrassment. "Stop!"
"Stop?" her mother laughed, the sound like music. Like joy given voice. "Stop telling my perfect daughter how much I love her? Impossible! You're my reason for waking each morning, my last thought before sleeping, my everything!"
