Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

Lucian had been frequenting the café for three consecutive days, consistently ordering the same food and coffee. The peculiar nature of his visits perplexed me. Was he merely keeping a watchful eye on me, spying on me, or perhaps intent on disrupting my day?

He never compelled me to engage in conversation, at least not about the events that had happened. Nevertheless, his eyes remained fixed on me each day. He would arrive in the morning, depart briefly, return at three in the afternoon, and then exit as the shop closed its doors.

Accompanied by his laptop, he would occasionally attend to phone calls. Claire, my ever-observant coworker, speculated that he harboured a romantic interest in me.

“He’s been coming here for three consecutive days, unable to divert his gaze from you,” she remarked.

I merely shook my head, silently pondering the depths of Lucian’s intentions. If only Claire knew the truth.

“He’s looking at you right now, oh my goodness,” she exclaimed in a hushed voice. I caught Lucian’s gaze, causing my heart to race in my chest.

Swiftly, his attention shifted elsewhere, and Claire melted beside me, her excitement barely contained within whispered breaths.

“You should definitely ask him out,” she suggested, unaware of my true desires. In reality, I longed for him to leave my life entirely.

“I’m finished here,” I declared, removing my apron and opening my locker in the staff room. I swiftly changed my attire.

Usually, my schedule at the café spanned from Monday to Thursday. However, I opted for half-day shifts on Fridays, particularly when the establishment bustled with activity. Today happened to be Friday, and I craved an early out.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

During my days off, I typically don’t engage in much activity. Usually, I retreat to the comfort of my room and indulge in some television watching or other leisurely pursuits. However, an unusual desire for a leisurely stroll had overtaken me today. Making my way through the kitchen, I opted to exit through the back door.

Walking alone still stirred a sense of dread inside me. This place and its habitants were unfamiliar territory. While I possessed the strength to overcome any human threat, I couldn’t always be certain that I was dealing with a mere mortal.

Aunt Melanie had enlightened me about the presence of other wolves who had chosen to settle in this city, much like herself. As I crossed the concrete streets, dwarfed by towering buildings, an undeniable longing for the forest overwhelmed me. It seemed rare to encounter a tree or a hint of greenery in this urban landscape.

I decided to head towards the mall. It wasn’t my first visit; Aunt Melanie had taken me here once before. I recalled my astonishment at the escalators and the many stores that decked its corridors, offering an array of clothing, food, and bustling crowds.

Observing families bonding and children joyfully frolicking around, I found pleasure in witnessing these scenes. The salespeople wore their finest attire and vied for the attention of passersby. It amazed me to witness people living such vibrant lives while I had spent countless years confined within the walls of a mansion, scrubbing floors.

Unbeknownst to me, I had unknowingly wandered into a makeup store. A stunning lady, clad in a fashionable skirt and graceful heels, approached me. Her flawless makeup accentuated her features, indicating that she likely worked at the store.

Introducing herself, she eagerly began suggesting an assortment of beauty products.

“Thank you, but I’m not particularly well-versed in their usage,” I responded, admitting my lack of familiarity.

My Mamà did possess makeup, and I often caught glimpses of her wearing it, as Monsieur had instructed her to do so. However, as a servant, I was strictly forbidden from wearing any form of cosmetics. The only exception seemed to be Vienna, who freely paraded through the mansion with an array of vibrant hues painted on her face.

Stepping into this makeup store made me feel like a primitive creature, utterly detached from the modern world. I sensed the silent judgement emanating from the lady who had approached me earlier. But I wasn’t bothered by it. Honestly, I would also be confused to see a woman entering a makeup store and saying she doesn’t know how to use the products.

I continued to stroll around, merely exploring the products out of sheer curiosity. Throughout my upbringing, I would often inquire about makeup from my mother, only to receive the response that beauty could sometimes be burdensome.

I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the wide array of lipstick shades that beautifully decorated the display. The stall was covered with an extensive selection of shades, showcasing a surprising variety of reds and pinks that I never knew existed.

Lipstick, I did understand. It was applied to the lips to add a splash of colour. Claire, Aunt Melanie, and numerous female patrons at the café wore it regularly.

“This shade would suit you well, Miss,” another salesperson chimed in, presenting me with a warm-toned pink lipstick. She wore an infectious smile, exuding an air of friendliness.

Though hesitant, I accepted the offer. She offered to apply it for me, but I had already made up my mind that I would purchase it. After all, trying it wouldn’t hurt. Many people wore lipstick; it was a commonplace practice.

Following my stroll through the mall, I returned home. My feet ached from hours of standing at the café and crossing the expansive corridors of the shopping center.

Mamà and Aunt Melanie were engrossed in a movie as I entered the living room. Their gazes shifted towards me as the door creaked open.

“Hey,” Mamà greeted, and I made my way over to her, planting a kiss on her cheek, followed by one for Aunt Melanie.

“Where have you been?” she inquired.

“At the mall,” I replied.

“Oh, so you’re having a good time, huh?” she playfully teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. I couldn’t help but smile.

“You should join in, too,” Aunt Melanie chimed in. Mamà simply glanced at her, making a funny face in response. I chuckled at their banter.

“I need to freshen up,” I announced, waving my hand dismissively as I turned to go to my room.

“Dinner is in the fridge. Just heat it up,” Mamà’s voice trailed after me. I nodded in acknowledgment before closing the door behind me.

Once inside my room, my gaze immediately fell on the mirror. I was itching to try out the new lipstick. With gentle precision, I applied it to my lips. The lady at the store had been right. It looked good. The colour matched my skin tone, and I playfully pinched my cheek to add a touch of rosiness.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, contemplating whether he liked the colour pink. The sudden realisation of my own thoughts caused me to pinch myself mentally. Why on earth did I think about him?

It’s not as if I cared about his preferences.

What am I doing? Ugh! Frustrated, I threw myself onto my bed and gazed up at the ceiling.

Lucian was a constant source of confusion. He occupied my mind day and night, despite my supposed hatred towards him. Wasn’t he supposed to be at his wedding?

I scolded myself, refusing to give in to these swirling emotions. After all, I was here to start afresh, to move beyond the past. No one seemed to be searching for us. Perhaps Vienna and Monsieur had finally decided to release their grasp on our lives.