AUTHOR'S POV | Earlier
Scott left the ballroom first. He knew in his heart that he is needed elsewhere. As he walk past the kitchen, he heard rattling of metal and slamming of drawers. He was supposed to ignore it, but the noises became sharp. Whatever causes that bluster at this time of the night needs to stop. Stepping in the kitchen, he found Ofir rummaging the drawers. Closer at a few long strides, the lythari elf was preparing an almost tower of a bread, with peanut butter and purple and pink jelly in between. "Really, Ofir? At this time?", Scott rested one hand on his waist, scratching his temple with his finger as he sees the mess Ofir made.
"Ah!!", he flinched so hard that the slices of bread flew in the air. "You gave me a fright! I could almost have a heart attack! Sheesh", Ofir continued spreading peanut butter on the sides of the sandwiches as if it was a cake.
"Aren't you making too many?", Scott walked towards the long island table Ofir is working on. He stared at the enormous tower of peanut butter and jelly he have ever seen. It was arranged in a stack of alternate peanut butter, bread, and jelly in blue and red. A frown formed at the total mess around it, as he wonder how could Ofir make so much mess for such simple snack.
"It's for my favorite boys", sticking out half of his blue tongue out to the side of his mouth, as he happily spread the strawberry jam on some edges.
"Boys?", Scott knitted his brows. Every wolf in the mansion is a carnivore, only if there's steak in between the slices of bread.. they'd eat it. "What boys?", he asked.
"Yeeeeee-uuup!! The twin boys!!", he nodded, as he carefully fix his awful looking sandwich masterpiece arranged in a tower. "Do you perhaps need me?", Ofir paused for a bit looking at Scott, licking the jam on his fingers at the same time.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Scott took a moment. He swallowed one hard lump down his throat before he asked. "Is... she up?", he hesitated.
"Who's.. SHE?", he widened his eyes looking dumb as if he doesn't know who I was referring to.
Scott looked around, as if making sure no one hears. "You know.. HER.", he whispers, leaning forward.
"I don't know", Ofir shrugged. "Lily?", he lifted his brows, then smiled.
"Fu..", Scott bit his lower lip and clicked my tongue in irritation. "HER. Who else?".
"Oh….", he made a long O sound like he just figured who I was looking for. "Yes, and she's dizzy", he quickly answered.
"Then why did you leave her??".
"Because the boys are hungry!!", he shrugged his shoulders again with a teasing smile. "Are you goin' there?", he asked as he place his elbow on top of the sandwich tower.
"No! Why would I?", he tried to lie.
"Too bad… I'll need someone's help to bring these yummy sandwiches to the Luna.. Let me see.. I bet Roman would love to help", he said, as he lift the tray full of sandwiches.
"Fine, I'll do it", Scott takes the tray before the elf vanishes into thin air. Those words arrived too quickly, leaving Ofir with his widening smile. "There are boys in her room?", he tried to hide the displeasure in his tone.
"Just tell the Luna the sandwiches are for the boys. She knows what to do", Ofir said as he hop down the table.
The tray was heavier than it looked. The sloppy tower of of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was enough to feed an entire pack. With a sharp exhale, Scott left the grinning elf in the kitchen as he went straight up to Reina's room. Butterflies keep fluttering in his stomach on his way there. His face faltered at the stairs going up. An odd wave of air swirled inside him at every brisk and purposeful stride going to the room that never in his lifetime have bothered him. He exhaled sharply, pondering. He stood before big executives, faced intimidating elders and Alphas... fought beasts and walked through burning houses. Yet now, his heart refused to obey a calm that he commands.
What was he supposed to say?
He can't be too casual. He won't be formal. He refused to act the obvious. And he didn't want to use small words. Everything in his head tangled like hopeless knots as his grip tightened on the tray. Just when his was about figure what to say, his what ifs and perhaps began to cloud his head.
What if she doesn't want to see him?
What if she kicks him out?
Perhaps she's asleep.
Perhaps she's too tired to see anyone.
They all surged endlessly in his mind. Every thought almost made him turn around. But no. He had already walked this far.
Then, another question surfaced.
Who exactly are those boys with his Luna? Scott frowned, and his jaw tightened. He could imagine himself dragging them all out of her room by their collar. He hissed midway. Why was Reina's wing so impossibly far from the kitchen? Had this corridor always stretched this long? Every step felt as though the mansion itself had decided to test his resolve, lengthening the distance one heartbeat a time.
Finally, he reaches Reina's door.
He drew one slow breath, then another. He turned the knob, and opened it. Darkness pooled inside Reina's room. And the Diana's scent reeled him easily that no any other perfume could do. Scott went in, and nudged the door shut with his shoe. "Who's there?", Diana's voice floated through the room, quiet and awake. "Can you please hit the lights for me?"
Scott didn't answer.
His throat had forgotten now. In the dark, he could see her enough standing barefoot in Reina's sleek dress with its hem swaying below her knees. One of her hands glide carefully along the wall, searching, and the other hand reaches forward. Scott set the heavy tray onto the nearby table gently, careful enough not to shatter the PB&J tower.
In the dim and silence, Diana tilted her head. "...hello?"
Scott crossed the room. When he brushed her fingers hanging midair, she paused. She didn't pull away. Instead, her hand relaxed instinctively into his. His other hand settled lightly around her waist to steady her. Without a word, he guided her fingertips across the room, to the switch. He made slow steps. Feeling her warmth, if there's still fever. Measuring her legs, if they are strong enough now. Holding her hand, not wanting to let go.
Then...
...click.
Warm golden light flooded the room. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Half a turn, Diana met his eyes. She had known. Long before the lights came on. His silhouette when he opened that door. His manly scent of lavender musk and peppermint cigarette. The sound of her own heartbeat at his presence.
It's him.
Scott's lungs burned. He looked at her, forgetting to function. The woman who laid like dead beneath the layers of blankets now stand before him, no longer looking feverish. Her uncombed damp hair tamed on her back as if it was just toweled dry looked unnaturally stylish. The blue dress deepened the color of her eyes, making them most luminous even under the warm light. Her cheeks carried hollows of exhaustion, but life had returned to them somehow. And her lips, her lips that were once pale as the winter's moon had regained its dew, with a hue of raspberries.
That beautiful sight unclenched the fist twisting his heart.
He stared at those lips a bit longer, while she watch his every move without protests. With a breathless pause, there wasn't room for any words, that neither of them spoke. Just two hearts dropping their emotional walls understanding reciprocity with unspoken words. Slowly, Scott lifted his hand, while his other arm tug around her waist trapping her in place, even if he didn't had to. The gentle weight of his palm searing with warmth found the cool softness of her cheek as he cross the small distance between them. His thumb brushed her lips, and its tenderness softened the harsh lines on his forehead, and the chiseled marks on his jaw.
No more perhaps, and gone are the what ifs.
Scott leaned in, and so did she... until their lips found its home, completely giving in to their own overwhelming feelings. To the thrill of loving each other. To the restraints of yearning. To believing. In that fleeting moment, the rest of the world faded. All of Scott's mental clutters cleared out. For almost like an eternity, he was no longer lost. He have found himself where he wanted to be.
It was slow, painfully slow. Brushing his lips into hers softly before diving into her sweet deluge once second at a time, as they close their eyes letting their souls collide. It was as if he was trying to remember the sacred feeling of her touch and her impeccable taste like sunrise - warm, slow and full of hope. Sharing their breaths, the air began to sizzle. Scott chose not to be gentle anymore. After that magnetic pull into her, his desperation showed. He made it messy and way too honest to take back, claiming her with a fervent bruising hunger of sleepless nights and overthinking. Groaning, Scott slid his hand to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss rich in the taste of menthol and a crisp hint of apple. Losing himself to the maddening patience that chained him, he rekindled the promises and apology that he couldn't say out loud in that inevitable kiss.
Diana answered to Scott without hesitation. Her eyes fluttered close as her hand slip around his neck as though they had remember the path long before her mind did. She let his mouth take her fiercely, as she open hers full of him, his gentle pressure and that irresistible wanting need. It burned every part of her, nonetheless, loved every bit of it. Every sensation felt terrifyingly right despite no clarity swept her doubts.
Scott lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, wrapping her legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. Her arms coiled around his neck, and her fingers bury in the thickness of his hair. His satisfaction wasn't sufficed with that lip lock and bodies pressed together. Taking her across the room, he wanted more of her. Something more than that kiss. Halfway to the bed, Diana suddenly drew back as if she remembered something important. "S-stop", she breathlessly whispered in his mouth, trying to pull herself from his allure. However, Scott just kept going, nibbling her lips unperturbed, with his hand gripping her nape unmoved. He didn't want anything to ruin the moment.
Even her.
Yet, Diana was awaken by the wrongness of the situation. Her hands found its strength to push his shoulders, forcing herself away from his hungry kisses. "Sc-ott.. we can't", it was not a rejection, but a reminder. "You're getting married", it was then reality struck them both.
Scott stared at her, searching her face. Her fingers remained curled around the fabric of his shoulders as she meet his gaze. She is serious. With visible effort, he let his arms loosened, and let Diana slide down, bare feet touching the floor. Flushed, Diana wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and fixed her dress. Sighing, she walked away towards Reina's desk by the window, where she should have been before Scott entered the room.
Clearing his throat, Scott took a good look of her from then. She didn't appear to be just getting ready for bed, or simply staying at home. It looked like she's preparing to leave. She sat on the settee, looked for a paper and a pen in the drawers. In a while, she scratched the pen on the paper and folded the note. "Are you leaving without saying goodbye again?", he said in his deep voice.
Diana placed the note on Reina's desk where anyone could see. "I left a note this time", she turns to him, who's still standing where she'd left him after their kiss.
"A note?", he frowned. "How come you leave a note, when I got nothing?", he bore those eyes seeking for an explanation. A kind of look that doesn't really demand for answers, but more like begging her not to leave again.
"I guess, I'm not too good at goodbyes..".
It was not the answer he was looking for. He wanted to argue, but he left it at that. He just got her back, and her eyes still looked tired enough to be confronted so he let it rest. Scott walked past Diana, right by the treat he brought in. "Ofir wanted me to give you these.", he picked up the tray of the PB&J, and looked around. "He said it's for the boys", sensing the room, they are apparently alone.
"Oh", she smiled and went after Scott. Then, she took the heavy tray of sandwiches from his hands. Her eyes twinkled at the stack of sticky madness, oozing with sweetness all around. "Is that all?", she carried the sandwiches to the sitting area by the bedroom's foyer.
Without a word, Scott followed her like a dog on a leash. She settled the tray on the low coffee table. Immediately noticing that she'll be sitting on the hard floor, he fetched a cushion from the nearby sofa and placed it beneath her. "There", he murmured.
"Thank you."
Scott watched her eat with her hands in enormous bites. He listened to her moans when the jam reaches her throat. He never looked away in spite of the short pauses she makes to lick her fingers. She made the messy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches look supreme above all kinds of food there is. Instead of being warmed in his heart at the sight of his Luna eating sumptuously beside him, the smile on his slowly faded. There was no peace that was supposed to be there. Instead, an ache spread through his chest as he look at her delicate wrist, and the bones of her fingers. He could hardly blink realizing that Reina's dress itself shouldn't exactly fit her. "Did... Priscilla hurt you?"
"No", Diana swallowed a bite. "She changed her mind, but it didn't ended well for her as soon as she did".
"And Damon?"
Her fingers tightened a little around the second serving of the sandwich. His name carried nightmares. The mere sound of his name brought back the glass walls, the locked doors, the sting of the needles, and the suffocating prison. Diana tried to keep it casual. And so she simply shook her head and smiled. "He fought it, if you're that concerned."
Nonetheless, Scott saw it. He should've. Surely, his brother was not himself around Diana. By the way she froze at the sound of Damon's name, he understood more than those words she said. "People will be coming tonight to see their urns, you might want to stay in the room for a while. It's protected by the lythari", he poured a glass of water and handed it to Diana.
She gulped half of the glass with both of her hands, and placed it on the table before going back to her dinner. It didn't made sense. "...their urns?", she looked at Scott, confused.
"Yes... Damon and Priscilla. He burned himself alive last night."
The sandwich in her hand suddenly felt too heavy. The room became completely still, just like Diana who had no words at the terrible news that reached her. She looked away. Damon was once the man who saved her life. But after that, he turned to the man who took her from her home, imprisoned her, starved her and took so much of her blood for days. And now that he is dead, she didn't know what to feel. Whether he acted on the influence of Tamara or made decisions of his own, he will always anchor her back to the fear and the trauma that shook her world. "I.. I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry.", her voice cracked, lowering her gaze. "I'm sorry..."
"Diana", Scott cupped her face meeting her eyes, interrupting her thoughts before she jumps to conclusions. "I should be the one sorry, my family made decisions on their own."
"No...", Diana was torn, shaken along with the downturned corners of her lips. It was awful news and yet, somewhere in her deepest shadows felt shamefully relieved. She hated herself for it. Nonetheless, she remembered how she caught glimpses of Damon staring at her beyond the glass prison with regret. He must have fought the Nagual before every pieces of him was taken. A tear slid down her cheek, while she tugs on the bottom of her lip. Neither Damon nor Priscilla deserved to die even after all she has been through. Her thoughts lingered and swerved to centering herself as the root of all causes. Diana clasped her hands with her sticky fingers as she put herself to blame for their deaths. "I'll... I'll leave tonight".
There it was. Just as what he expected. "Don't push it.", he answered as quick as he rose from leaning back.
"They all died because of me. I bring... death.", Diana kept her head down, that she could hardly look at him.