Moondust

Moondust - 5

Unedited

~A/N: ** means a switch of POV~

Lyda felt butterflies in her stomach as she walked to her parents door. Oh come on! It's just your parents, nothing to get so worked up about, she told herself. Hesitantly, she raised her fist to knock at the door.

"Gods Lyda, stop knocking on the door like a nervous wreck. Step aside, I have a key." Kol said, softly pushing her to the side. Oh, was all she could think of. The door was unlocked and Lyda and Kol stepped inside. The outside hadn't changed a bit and Lyda had seen, from when she stepped inside, that nothing had changed still.

The walls were still a creamy white and pictures of both Kol and Lyda were still hanging in the exact position. The crack in one if the white marble tiles, caused by Kol when his bowling bowl accidentally slipped out of his hands, was still there, standing proud and obvious. "Nikolai, Is that you? Please tell me you haven't brought Lyda ye-" Lyda's mother stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at her as a mother would stare at their who, after coming home from war.

"Lyda? Is that you?" She said softly, her dark grey eyes starting to tear. Lyda didn't know what to do. She was happy to see her mother, but she wasn't that happy that's she'd start crying.

"Yeah..." Lyda said awkwardly. Kol scoffed at her and shook his head, while leaving the room. Most likely trying to find dad.

Daena Peyton, Lyda's mother was a woman of great beauty. She had short, curly auburn-red hair that stopped above her shoulders, that framed her pale, skinny face. She didn't look a day over 35, but in truth, age was 45 years old. Born on March 22nd, 1966. She was tall and skinny, she had the body if a model. And the looks for it too. What Lyda didn't understand, was why she was wearing a formal dress. It was body fitting and hugged around her knees. The top of the dress cut a little under her neck, showing no cleavage what-so-ever. She was wearing tights that had covered her legs (the doings of Lyda's father, for sure) and black sensible shoes.

"Oh, Lyda you look so different. A good different. You lost weight!" Lyda's mother was a little bit too happy to see the change in her daughter's size. Not much her looks. But doesn't size fall under looks? It was all about how you looked with Daena. Lyda's mother was most defiantly a kind women. All she wanted was the best for her daughter, Lyda knew that. But she couldn't help thinking how much her mum had worried over looks when Lyda was growing up.

"Yeah..." She said again, not knowing what to say. All she really wanted to do, was get to the bottom of her leaving.

"We weren't expecting you till 1:30. It's 11:30, why are you so early?" She asked a Lyda. What, no 'I'm so happy you're back?' or We've missed you dearly'? Lyda's jaw clenched at her mother. Daena had always wanted everything to be perfect. She was a perfectionist.

"Sorry." Was all Lyda could say. "Where's dad?"

**

Daena's eyes quickly'd assessed her daughter. She was shocked that her little had bloomed into a beautiful woman in these short three years. Lyda's unkept, untamed hair was now very smooth a curly. It fell down a bit lower than her breasts. Lyda had tanned a little, bring out her dark brown eyes that matched to colour of her beautiful hair. She was taller and skinnier than three years ago. Daena was pleased about that. Not pleased that she had lost so much weight, but pleased that she would fit into the dress that she had bought for her daughter. Being the stupid mother that she was, she had accidentally gotten the wrong size for her. But now seeing that she was going to fit the $200 dress, made her very happy. Daena had thought that Lyda's weight was fine, that it was nothing to be worried about, but Lyda had always insisted that weighed to much. So, as any mother should do, she wanted to help Lyda loose weight, since that was what her daughter wanted. But when Daena had suggested that she go on a diet, Daena thought that she was offended by it. And since then, a Lyda had painted a fairly poor picture of Daena's skills as a mother.