31. Chapter Thirty-One #2
I stop suddenly as a memory clicks into place. “Professor Jules told me I absolutely had to see the stag beetle collection while I was here,” I say, grabbing Adrian’s hand without thinking. “We have to go there first.”
Adrian lets me pull him along, his laughter a welcome hum beside me.
We weave through the halls until we reach the large display dedicated to Lucanidae. The stag beetles are magnificent. Some of them are enormous, their mandibles curved and powerful like ancient weapons. Others are smaller but shimmer with metallic greens and deep coppers.
I lean close to one of the cases, completely captivated.
“Look at this one,” I breathe. “This is a Lucanus cervus. They use those huge mandibles for fighting other males during mating season. It’s not just about strength.
It’s this whole chemical signaling system.
The males release pheromones to attract females from far away, and the females choose based on the specific scent blend. ”
Adrian stands close behind me, one hand resting solidly on my lower back. “Fascinating,” he murmurs, voice genuinely interested. “So the pheromone profile acts like a fingerprint?”
“Exactly,” I say, turning to him with a big smile.
I can’t stop myself from info-dumping now that the floodgates are open.
“And look at the compound eyes on this one over here. They’re made of thousands of tiny lenses.
Each one sees a slightly different part of the world.
It’s like having hundreds of tiny televisions running at once — that’s why they’re so good at detecting movement. ”
I move to the next case, my words coming faster as excitement takes over. Adrian follows right beside me, his hand never leaving my back except when I point at something new.
His questions are perfect, coming from his biochemistry knowledge. He asks about the molecular structure of the pheromones, how the scent receptors in the antennae work, and whether temperature affects the volatility of the signals. Each question makes me light up even more.
We reach a section on fireflies and I get particularly animated.
“Fireflies are my favorite for chemical ecology,” I tell him, pressing closer to the glowing display.
“The light isn’t just pretty. It’s a love language written in chemicals and bioluminescence.
Different species have completely unique flash patterns and pheromone combinations so they only attract the right mate. It’s incredibly specific.”
Adrian watches me with the softest smile I have ever seen on his face. His green eyes are warm and completely focused on me rather than the specimens. Every time I get excited and gesture at a new case, his fingers brush lightly against my spine affectionately. He looks utterly besotted.
We finally stop in front of one of the most impressive stag beetles I have ever seen. It’s massive, with mandibles that curve dramatically and a deep, polished chestnut color that gleams under the lights. I stare at it in awe for a long moment before an idea sparks.
I reach into my bag and pull out one of the spare specimen labels and a pin I always carry with me. Adrian raises an eyebrow, amused.
“What are you doing?” he asks, voice full of laughter.
“Hold still,” I tell him, grinning. I carefully write on the label in my neatest handwriting: Adrian Sinclair – Perfect Match. Then I securely pin it to the front of his navy cardigan, right over his heart.
“There,” I say, stepping back to admire my work. “Now you are officially cataloged.”
Adrian looks down at the label and his entire face eases into something so sweet it makes my breath catch. He doesn’t take it off. Instead he touches it lightly with his fingertips, pride clear in his eyes.
“I am keeping this on for the rest of the date,” he says. “Maybe the rest of the day.”
I laugh, a blush flooding my cheeks, but I can’t deny how happy it makes me to see him wear my silly little label so proudly.
We continue through the hall slowly after that, my hand tucked into the crook of his arm. Adrian stays close, listening to every word I say with that same besotted look, occasionally asking another thoughtful question that shows exactly how much he likes this side of me.
I feel completely free to be my most passionate, bug obsessed self, in a way that I’m not sure that I really ever have before. And Adrian doesn’t just tolerate it… he adores it.
We wander away from the main insect hall without any real plan. The museum has so many smaller galleries tucked away like secrets, and Adrian seems happy to follow wherever my curiosity leads.
We turn down a less crowded corridor and step into a dimly lit side room dedicated to tropical butterflies and moths.
The space feels almost empty. Only a few visitors drift through the far end, their footsteps muted on the carpet.
Beautiful lighting glows from above, casting gentle shadows across the display cases.
White sheets drape some of the walls like the ones we use for night trapping, and the effect makes the whole room feel hushed and magical.
I stop in front of a case holding several luna moths, their pale green wings spread wide and delicate. The sight pulls the words out of me before I can stop them.
“Luna moths are incredible for pheromone attraction,” I say, voice full of wonder.
“The females release this specific chemical signal that can travel for miles. Males detect it with these feathery antennae that are basically chemical radars. They fly straight toward it, sometimes from kilometers away, and the whole thing is so precise that only the right species responds. It’s like nature wrote a love letter in molecules. ”