Moonstar

Creep - Radiohead

Light drizzle sprinkles the windshield of my beemer. A gloomy London sky looms overhead. Putting the car on hazard, I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I wait in its warm confines directly outside the front door of my studio. Two steaming to-go coffee cups-macchiato for me and mocha for Luna, based on our chat last night-sit on the holders, a paper bag of freshly baked croissants at the backseat along with my bag.

After I bid Luna goodnight last night, I drove back to the penthouse around two. I wasn't tired but the two bottles of beer helped me sleep like a baby. It may also have something to do with the calming thought that she's in my studio, sleeping in my bed. Safe and warm and real. I woke up after six hours of sleep, recharged and ready for the day. Excited even.

It's gonna be tight for me with my polo match later this afternoon but I don't want to pass on the opportunity to see where Luna intends to move in to. Honestly, I just want to make sure I know where she is and where she'll be. I want to know where I can find her after this. You know, just in case she decides to bail on me again. I don't want that to happen again.

Losing your comfort person, and so abruptly at that... it kills you.

Luna was my comfort person. She is my comfort person. She's been my best friend since I was four and it didn't end with her absence. Sure, I have Paxton and Ocean, my sister Athena and my brother Achilles, but no one took her place in my life. I'd be damned if I let her desert me again.

I duck and look out the window to the door before taking a peek at my wrist watch. It's a quarter past nine. I already texted her earlier that I was close while standing in line at the French patisserie around the corner, but I pull my phone out anyway to let her know I'm here.

Just then, the door opens and Luna steps out. She's wearing the same long black coat she wore the other night when I found her balled up at a bus stop, buttoned all the way to her neck and the hoodie up over her head. Only her calves in black leggings are visible before her maoon Dr. Martens start. It still strikes me how different she is now and the pink-wearing-hair-braided six year-old Luna from my memory.

Slamming the door behind her, she dashes down the stairs and slides beside me on the passenger seat. She brushes her hoodie off and places her knapsack bag between her feet. "Hey," she breathes, not meeting my eyes as she fastens her seatbelt.

My sight glazes with silky straight raven hair and my head swims with a gentle scent I can't determine what. It's been fucking with my mind. Inexpensive yet clean and a floral hint. I want to lean towards her, bury my face in her hair, and drown in it. Catching myself, I grip the steering wheel and turn my attention to the outside drizzle. Christ, Apollo. What the hell? That's your best friend.

"Morning." I stifle a wince at the sound of my voice-hoarse and deep. Clearing my throat yet still not meeting her eyes, I say, "There's hot mocha for you and some croissant in the bag behind you."

"You didn't have to but thanks, A."

I nod and move to turn off the hazard light so we can get on our way, but then she stops me with a hand on mine. Turning a puzzled look at her, I finally meet her gaze for the first time today. Brown, almond-shaped eyes, perfect brows. Tan, smooth skin. Cute nose, naturally pink lips with the bottom fuller and the top thinner. I shut my mouth, realizing it's hanging open.

She lets go of my hand, averts her eyes, and reaches for her coffee. Taking a sip, she says, "At least drink the coffee while they're hot. Sayang naman." What a waste.

Letting out a breath, the corners of my lips twitch in a smile. I am actually hungry and my throat is dry. I unbuckle my seat belt and twist my body so I can reach the bag of pastry from the backseat, placing it on my lap and handing a croissant to her.