Sometimes it felt like Felix and I just used each other to get it all out of our systems. Sometimes it felt like more. Usually the nights when it was just us two, when we lay in his bed, tangled in the sheets, moonlight would drift in through the window, unfiltered by the curtains he never seemed to close. Felix would run his fingers through my hair, letting them trail down my bare back. My body reacted to him in ways I never expected, ways I don’t think he anticipated. But these stolen moments in Felix’s moonlight-dappled bed always felt different. Like we weren’t ourselves, but someone else. People who weren’t trapped in a cursed house, at each other’s throats.

Felix would whisper secrets to me in these moments, and I would respond with stories of my own.

“My father taught me money was everything in this life,” he murmured to me one night. “Any problem in the world could be solved with enough money.” He picked his hand off my shoulder and gestured around us. “Now look where I am. I had more than enough money to do whatever I wanted. And I’m still here. Still trapped in these four walls. All the money in the world couldn’t, can’t, free me.”

I tiptoed my fingers along his toned arm, enjoying the way the muscles tensed beneath the skin as I traveled down his body. “I grew up with no money. Dirt poor. We used to scour the couch cushions for loose change to buy a loaf of bread. I thought having money would change everything. Fix all of my problems, and set me up for life. And somehow, once I was lucky enough to fall into some money, I chose to buy this place. I’m not sure money has anything to do with luck anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Felix whispered, turning on his side. He watched me carefully, tracing my lips with a gentle touch.

“Yeah,” I sighed, leaning into his hand. “I think money is just a means to an end. And luck is something we create. The rest of it…it’s something we can choose to either embrace, or we can mourn. And maybe that’s something we all need to learn. To embrace the house, and everything that comes with it.”

He smirked. “I can think of something else I would rather embrace.” His lips replaced his fingers, and his hands found their way to my waist. I don’t think we spoke any more that night.