A Face Made For Daylight

nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

Stella woke up to the sound of rain rattling against the window. Looking to her phone, she saw it was a little later than she intended. She wanted to wake up early and have breakfast on time, like Alistair wanted. This was her third morning in this home, their third breakfast together. She sat up in bed thinking of how much time passed. It felt like forever in a short time. And then she felt a knot in her stomach, and it wasn't a craving for breakfast. It was the recollection of last night. Stella brought her fingers to her lips, brushing them lightly thinking of his touch. She couldn't help but smile to herself. His words ringing in her ears, the feeling of his embrace. Alistair was opening up to her, revealing parts of him in his own way.

Getting ready this morning was not a daunting task. She actually found herself enjoying putting herself together as her mind wandered. Was Alistair opening up because he just needed her to like him enough to break the curse? He was a hard to read. Then there was Kid. Was he kind to her because he wanted the same? No, she shook her head recalling Kid's gaze. His words, his touch, they felt genuine. She bit down on her lip remembering his words: "primal beast---I just have to control my self more." She felt a rush in her body as her mind flashed an image of him, raw and carnal, she flushed feeling guilty. She accepted that Alistair turned her on even if she tried to avoid it, she knew this was a fact. Maybe that's why Kid turned her on. He was after all a replica of the man she fantasized about in bed the other night. Her mind recalled sounds of Alistair grunting and moaning wishing she caused them.

With her mind spinning, she took effort in her appearance. She wanted to impress him, to delight in his approval. She wore a soft form fitted long sleeve shirt, paired with a tweed plaid mini skirt, over sheer tights and her ankle boots. She thought of how she looked like Sabrina the teenage witch- how fitting for an October look. Stella stopped in her tracks as all those words trailed to one: moon. She was already here 3 days and she had a few weeks to fulfill a reality so unbelievable, she felt insane just thinking of it.

Glossing up her lips she made her way down to the dinning room, she stopped to catch her breath when she heard Alistair's thick voice echo through the hall. Stella felt her temperature rise and turned into the room. What she saw made her heart sink. Ariana sitting in her seat, the same spot she sat in the last few days. Her hand stretched out in his grasp as he kissed it laughing with her. She knew Alistair felt her presence but he didn't turn to greet her.

"Oh! Hey, Bella is it?" Ariana beamed looking to the door. Stella felt the air in the room evaporate, her heart sinking deeper into the floor, the lump in her throat pushing outwards stifling her. She felt sick at the sight of this Barbarella look alike before her.

"It's Stella." Her voice a little shaky. Alistair hasn't acknowledged her so Stella exhaled and walked around his chair to stand on the other side. She stared at him; her face dull of expression. Alistair licked his lips, as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers playing with Ariana's, still whispering sweet nothings smiling at her while ignoring Stella on his other side.

She looked down at his perfectly composed fit. He wore black jeans this time, complimenting his deeply unbuttoned black shirt, peacocking his chiseled chest to his blonde conquest. His forearms exposed with the shirt tightly rolled to his elbow. His signature black hair deeply gelled back, highlighting his strong jaw line and high cheekbones. That smug look on his face was the only flaw Stella found on his face. And not because it didn't look attractive, but because it was a reminder of how he consistently toys with her.

"Good morning Stella." A calm voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Stella turned over her shoulder to see Nathaniel stepping into the dinning room, his expression worrisome. He looked hesitant and a little shaken.