His Rogue Luna novel Chapter 43

"This is why I know you're perfect for this," she chuckled. "While most people in your position would be partying and enjoying their new lavish lifestyle, you're sitting here contemplating with an old woman," I let out a chuckle of my own, leaning down to rest my head on her shoulder.

"Diana, what am I gonna do without you?" The words came out in a half laugh-half sob, that familiar lump coming back in my throat.

"Don't cry or I'll start bawling," she choked. "Tonight is a night of celebration. Let's leave all the sad stuff for tomorrow and have fun," she cleared her throat. I sat up and stood up with her.

"I already had fun. I had way too much wine," I giggled.

"Bring out the whiskey and I'll show you some real fun," I snorted at that but did as she asked.

I woke up with a heavy feeling in my chest. Despite the late hour I had crashed into my bed and the ridiculous amounts of alcohol I had consumed, I woke up relatively early, a sudden wave of dread washing away all remnants of sleep.

Diana of course was sleeping peacefully, knocked out cold with a bottle still clutched in her hands. I smiled to myself at her sleeping form, remembering how surprised I was last night by her brash and crude nature.

The older you get, the less fucks you give.

I slipped on a white robe over my nightgown, quietly tiptoeing out the room. I wanted some quiet time to reflect. Noticing people milling about the gardens, I turned around and headed towards the library.

As I expected, it was empty and quiet, the smell of old pages and worn leather oddly comforting.

I slumped onto a nearby sofa, leaning back to close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a pressure begin to form at the back of my eyelids.

I heard quiet footsteps tentatively step into the large room, probably in awe over the rows of towering bookcases that I was too distracted to appreciate.

I didn't open my eyes and hoped they would go away or avoid me, wanting to wallow in my misery before I'd have to put my mask back on.

I had no such luck.

If anything, it was the one person I had hoped to avoid for another day that carefully approached me. His footsteps halted abruptly and not detecting any further movements from him, I opened my eyes to meet his gaze.

"Aurelius," I acknowledged in a clipped tone.

"Artemis," he breathed. For a second he looked conflicted, glancing unsurely at the empty loveseat opposite me. I just stared at him, waiting for his next move since I wasn't in any mood to engage him.

He eventually took the seat, carefully watching my reaction as if I'd snap at him for approaching me.

I scoffed. I wasn't him.