╭─────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ─╮
.·:*¨༺𝐎𝐧𝐞༻¨*:·.
☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ʟᴜɴᴀ ᴍᴀᴇ.
( 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯 )
@LILLYOFTHEVAIIEY
╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

                        𝓣he morning sunlight didn't gently kiss her awake — it stabbed at her through the curtains like a cruel reminder that the world had the audacity to keep turning.

Luna Mae blinked against it, groggy and disoriented, her throat dry and her head heavy from a night of restless sleep and salt-dried tears.

Her bedsheets were warm, her hair was slightly tangled in its braid, and the soft pink light filtering through her curtains made her bedroom look like a rose-tinted dream. Tahlia was still snoring softly beside her, one arm flung over Luna's stomach, a smear of raspberry Pop-Tart frosting dried on her hoodie sleeve.

It was the kind of morning she'd normally wake up to with a soft sigh and a giddy flutter in her chest — senior year, first day, new cheer routines, new outfits, new everything.

For a moment, she didn't remember.

Then she did.

Embry.

The phone call.

Her heart cracking like glass in a hurricane.

She curled onto her side with a quiet, broken sound and pulled the blanket over her head, trying to shut out everything — the light, the ache in her chest, the sound of birds outside that felt too happy for the morning after your world ends.

From across the room, her alarm went off.

"Senior year," it chirped brightly — a custom recording she and Embry had made in July. His voice layered over hers, laughing as he said, "Get up, babe. This is it. One more year and we're free."

She threw her pillow at the alarm clock. It fell off her desk with a thunk, and the recording cut off mid-laugh. "Fuck you." She grumbled.

Tahlia stirred beside her, bleary-eyed and half-buried under a throw blanket on the floor.

"You gonna kill that clock or get dressed?" she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Luna didn't answer. She stared at the ceiling for a moment — long enough to feel her heartbeat again, steady but bruised, like someone had kicked her ribs from the inside.

She eventually sat up, slower than usual, like her bones weighed double overnight. Her hair was still in the braid Tahlia had done, now messy and slightly frizzy. She looked down at her pink pajama shorts and soft cotton tank top — clothes that felt suddenly too young for someone who felt a hundred years old inside.

Tahlia finally looked up at her.

"You don't have to go, you know," she said. "We can say you're sick. You look sick. Like, in a hot, tragic heroine way."

"No." Luna's voice came out hoarse. "He's not taking my first day too."

She forced herself off the bed.

Her bedroom — all warm pinks and floral prints, heart-shaped trinket trays and perfume bottles on her dresser — felt like a lie this morning. Like it belonged to someone else. Someone still in love. Someone still loved back.

She sat at her vanity, brushing her hair with slow, robotic motions. Tahlia watched her from the floor, worried but quiet, letting her move on autopilot.

Outfit: chosen last week: A soft, cream cheer hoodie over a pleated skirt. Clean white sneakers. She'd planned to wear Embry's letterman jacket too, but...

She left it hanging in her closet.

She still did her makeup — soft blush, dewy highlighter, a flick of mascara — though her hands trembled as she swiped on gloss. She still tied the ribbons. A dab of vanilla perfume with hints of jasmine and peony behind her ear, and on her wrist.

Luna stood there for a long moment, staring at her reflection.

She looked like the girl she always was. Pretty, polished, pink, perfect. The girl Embry used to kiss on the bleachers after practice. The one he used to pull into his lap at bonfires. The one he called "his girl" like it was sacred.

But now, she felt like a ghost wearing that girl's skin.

Without speaking, she turned from the vanity and crossed the room to her open closet. Her fingers hovered for just a second before she reached out and grabbed it—the jacket.

Embry's.

Navy blue and worn-in soft, the La Push Wolves patch still slightly frayed on the shoulder. The scent of his cologne clung to the collar: warm cedar and pine and him.

She held it for a second too long. Then, without a word, shoved it into the bottom of her pale pink backpack and zipped it shut.

Tahlia squinted at her from the bed. "Why're you bringing that?"

Luna's jaw tightened, her voice flat. "So you can throw it at his face if I can't."

Tahlia blinked, then gave a small, approving nod. "Cold-blooded. I respect it."

Luna forced a breath out through her nose. "I don't want it near me."

Luna froze by the closet door.

A breath hitched in her throat.

Then—something inside her cracked open.

"Actually..." she murmured, voice too quiet. "I don't want any of it."

Tahlia looked up from where she was tugging her hair into a messy bun. "What?"

"I don't want any of it," Luna repeated, louder this time, and she turned, fire now burning in her chest where numbness had sat.

She grabbed a shoebox from under her bed and dumped it out—photos, old birthday cards, candy wrappers with inside jokes scribbled on them. Her hands shook, but they moved fast.

One by one, she started tearing things down.

The Polaroid of them at the spring bonfire, cheeks sun-kissed and matching grins? In the box.

The hoodie he let her keep after the movies when it got cold? In the box.

His Christmas present to her—a silver locket with a tiny crescent moon inside? Ripped off her jewelry stand and into the box.

Even the shirt of hers he always liked, the one with the soft, low neckline and lace trim? Folded tight and shoved in after it.

She moved like she was possessed by the ache in her ribs, a girl on a mission to erase him from every corner of her room.

Tahlia didn't say anything for a long moment, just watched. Finally, she stood and asked gently, "You sure you can give all this back to him without crying?"

Luna paused, fingers gripping a crumpled note Embry had written her on her birthday. She stared at it, lip trembling for a beat—then folded it, stuffed it deep into the box, and said,

"No. But if it makes him cry..." She looked up, eyes glossy but steeled. "Then me crying will be worth it."

Tahlia gave a low whistle, impressed.

Luna reached into her top drawer for the last item—a lacy lavender bra, definitely memorable.

With a huff, she chucked it into the box like a grenade.

Tahlia choked on a laugh. "Oh yeah," she said. "He's definitely gonna bawl."

Luna smirked, just a little, the first expression that felt real all morning. "Good."

The box sat heavy on the bed, packed with history, perfume, and promises broken. And she wasn't finished yet.

They stood at the door with their backpacks slung over their shoulders and the box between them like it was radioactive. Luna stared at it for a beat, her fingers gripping the handle of her pale pink tote.

"Alright," she said softly. "Let's go."

Tahlia raised a brow, glancing back at the window. "Uh... not we. I gotta sneak out, remember? Your stepmom already thinks I'm a 'bad influence' and your dad—"

"Right." Luna rolled her eyes. "The moral panic of the century if he sees your hoodie in the hallway."

Tahlia was already pulling on her shoes and yanking the zipper of her jacket up over her rumpled sleep shirt. "Parked a couple houses down, like a proper delinquent. Give me sixty seconds."

She darted into Luna's bedroom, muttering something about how she was "way too cute to be scaling flowerbeds before 8 a.m." Luna waited at the front door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as she heard the familiar soft thud of Tahlia landing outside her window. A rustle, a muffled curse. Then silence.

Thirty seconds later, a familiar dusty blue Civic pulled up in front of the house, tires crunching lightly over gravel. Tahlia rolled the window down, sunglasses on, like she'd just pulled up to a brunch date and not staged a covert overnight mission.

Luna stepped outside.

The air was already warm, that sticky La Push kind of morning—smelling like sea salt and woodsmoke and damp earth. The box felt heavier in her arms now, like it knew the weight of what it carried.

The front door clicked shut behind her just as her stepmom's voice echoed faintly down the hall. Luna didn't look back.

She jogged down the walkway and into the passenger seat, sliding the box into the back like it might detonate. Tahlia leaned over to hand her a hair clip.

"You want the 'sad ex-girlfriend bun' or the 'heartless cheerleader ponytail' today?"

Luna grabbed the clip and twisted her hair into a clean high pony, eyes forward. "Heartless."

Tahlia grinned and peeled out of the driveway.

They didn't speak for the first minute or two. Just the hum of the engine, the low thump of Tahlia's playlist, and the kind of silence that wrapped around you like armor.

Then Tahlia glanced over. "You good?"

"No."

"Okay. Want coffee before school?"

"...Yeah."

Luna and Tahlia pulled into the parking lot of the little coffee shop, the one place on the stretch between La Push and Forks that felt like a slice of calm, a safe space for a morning that was anything but.

They stepped inside, the door chiming softly, a warm contrast to the chill that still clung to the edges of Luna's heart.

Behind the counter stood a striking blonde with a razor-sharp undercut and an edgy vibe that cut through the soft hum of morning rush. Black eyeliner, a nose ring, and a smirk that suggested she knew more than she let on. Her name badge read FRANKIE in bold white letters on a black background.

Frankie glanced up, recognition flickering in her eyes. "Luna," she said, voice casual but with a hint of warmth, "Long time no see. Back to the grind, huh?"

Luna gave a small nod, forcing herself to smile.

"Iced latte?" Frankie guessed, tilting her head.

"Yeah," Luna said, voice soft but steady. "Something sweet, maybe floral... like a lavender honey iced latte, if you have it. Or something close."

Frankie's smirk softened into a knowing grin. "Lavender honey? That's got your vibe written all over it. You got it."

Tahlia rolled her eyes playfully. "Only Luna would order coffee that sounds like a perfume."

Frankie leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Well, if anyone could pull off a coffee that smells like a secret garden, it's you."

Luna blinked, a faint blush rising. The weight of the morning eased just a little as Frankie began crafting the drink, the sounds and smells of the cafe wrapping around her like a brief refuge.

Frankie slid the drinks across the counter a few minutes later — Luna's lavender honey iced latte in a clear cup, topped with delicate dried lavender buds and a swirl of foam that looked almost too pretty to drink, and Tahlia's usual, a large cold brew with way too much caramel drizzle.

"Thanks, Frankie," Luna said, wrapping her hands around the cup. The coolness of it grounded her, the soft scent of lavender already calming the tightness in her chest.

The girls stepped back out into the morning light, the scent of roasted beans and sugar trailing behind them as they walked to the car. Tahlia was already sipping her drink like she was in a commercial, sunglasses back on, the epitome of unbothered chaos.

In the passenger seat, Luna cradled her coffee, the ice clinking softly as they drove. The box still sat in the backseat, heavy with everything she couldn't quite say.

The road to the Rez school twisted through thick green woods and mist-touched cliffs, the landscape familiar, worn in like her favorite sweatshirt. They didn't talk much — the music low, Tahlia drumming her fingers on the wheel, Luna watching the trees blur past her window.

Tahlia turned off the main road and cruised through the sleepy streets of La Push, their coffees balanced in the center console. The familiar scent of sea salt drifted through the open windows, mingling with the sweet caramel and lavender from their drinks.

They passed the small park where Luna used to ride her bike with her cousins, the corner store with faded signs, and the community center where potlucks and ceremonies were still held under a sky full of stars.

The school buildings came into view at the end of the street — first, the long, low building that housed both the elementary and middle school kids. A cluster of younger students were already spilling out of cars and lining up near the doors, some holding backpacks nearly as big as they were, others clinging to older siblings' hands.

Just down the block stood the high school building — smaller, but somehow more serious, with its taller windows and darker red paint. A few kids lounged out front on the steps, some with earbuds in, others already grouped up and laughing too loud. A familiar controlled chaos.

Tahlia parked in the gravel lot near the high school and killed the engine. For a second, there was just the soft hiss of the cooling car and the sound of seagulls overhead.

Luna stared at the building, sipping her latte. "Feels weird," she murmured. "Coming back."

Tahlia glanced at her sideways, then leaned back in her seat, coffee in hand. "It's not really back. It's forward. Just a little crooked."

Luna raised an eyebrow at that. "That was corny."

Tahlia shrugged. "I'm serious. Everything's different now, but you're still here. That means something."

In the backseat, the cardboard box with Embry's things sat heavy and quiet, filled with memories and questions Luna wasn't sure she was ready to unpack. But she nodded anyway.

"Let's just get through today," Luna said.

"That's the spirit," Tahlia said, swinging open the door. "One absurd, chaotic, teenage hour at a time."

They got out, drinks in hand, backpacks slung over shoulders, and walked together toward the high school. Luna could feel the weight of the box even without touching it — a silent companion to her first day back.

The bell hadn't rung yet, but it was coming. So was everything else.

Senior year was waiting.

Inside, the halls buzzed with the typical first-day noise — lockers slamming, laughter echoing, sneakers squeaking on old tile. Posters for tryouts and clubs fluttered on bulletin boards, and somewhere down the hall, someone was already blasting music from their phone.

Luna clutched her drink and leaned toward Tahlia as they stepped through the doorway. "Can I keep your keys for later?" she asked quietly. "That box... it's too big to fit in my locker. I wanna give it to Embry after school, but I don't want to carry it around all day."

Tahlia didn't hesitate. She reached into her jacket pocket and passed them over. "You know where I park. Just text me when you're heading out."

Luna gave a small nod of thanks and slipped the keys into her bag, heart already thudding. They reached the row of lockers and started spinning combinations, the scent of old metal and pencil shavings drifting around them. Luna's eyes kept flicking down the hall, scanning every group that passed.

Tahlia caught her staring. "You okay?"

"I'm just—" Luna froze, her locker door still halfway open.

There he was. Embry Call. Walking in like nothing had changed.

Only everything had.

He strolled through the double doors beside Jared Cameron and Paul Lahote, all three of them moving in sync, like some kind of coordinated squad. Embry's head tilted slightly as he laughed at something Paul said, his body relaxed — confident in a way Luna didn't recognize.

Luna squinted. "He used to hate those two. Called them hall monitors on steroids."

Her voice was laced with confusion, suspicion. And then — her jaw dropped.

"He cut his fucking hair."

Tahlia, who had been digging through her bag, whipped her head around so fast her earrings clinked against each other. "He did what?!"

Her voice was sharp, louder than Luna expected. A few heads turned, but Tahlia didn't care.

Luna was still staring, almost disbelieving. "It's gone. Like... all of it. He used to say he'd never touch it. Said it was sacred."

"It is sacred," Tahlia muttered, frowning deeply now. "You don't just... cut your hair like that unless something happened."

Luna's throat tightened. "Like what?"

Tahlia didn't answer right away. Her eyes were still locked on Embry — on the way he moved, the way Jared and Paul seemed to orbit him like something unspoken connected them all.

Embry was mid-laugh at something Jared said when it happened.

One second, he was just walking down the hall like it was any other morning. The next, the world dropped out from under him.

His steps slowed. His voice cut out. Everything around him—Jared's voice, Paul's obnoxious snort, the scuffed floors and flickering hallway lights—blurred into nothing.

Because there she was.

Luna.

He didn't know how he knew, only that he did. Like the universe had slammed on the brakes, twisted the compass of his soul, and pointed it directly at her. His pulse crashed in his ears. His body locked up. His breath caught in his chest.

Her hair. Her eyes. The soft confusion on her face.

She was beautiful. And she was his. Or well—she used to be.

She didn't even look at him at first, too busy whispering something to Tahlia. But then she noticed. Her gaze caught his—briefly—and he swore time bent around them.

Then she frowned.

Luna's heart skipped. Embry Call was staring at her like he'd never seen another human being in his life. Like she was some long-lost relic he thought he'd never find again. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes wide with shock—and something else. Something intense.

"Uh..." she muttered, shifting closer to her locker. "Why is he—?"

"Oh my God," Tahlia snapped, grabbing her wrist. "He's such a fucking jerk. Come on."

She tugged Luna away, and the contact broke.

Embry blinked. The noise of the hallway came rushing back. Jared bumped into his shoulder, snickering.

"Dude. You okay?"

Embry didn't answer. His gaze followed Luna's retreating form like he physically couldn't look anywhere else.

Embry stood rooted in place, staring after Luna like the ground beneath him no longer mattered.

Jared stopped a few steps ahead, turned back, and narrowed his eyes. "Oh no," he muttered, watching Embry's frozen expression. "It happened, didn't it?"

Paul blinked, confused. "What? What happened?"

Jared stepped closer to Embry, who still hadn't moved, his eyes fixed down the hall where Luna disappeared around the corner. "He just imprinted."

Paul looked between them, then barked out a laugh. "No way. No fucking way. That's what that face is?"

Embry finally blinked. "She—she looked at me."

Jared clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, bro. That's kinda the whole thing."

Paul raised an eyebrow, glancing down the hall where Luna had disappeared. "Okay, no big whoop," he said with a shrug. "Isn't she like... your girlfriend, dude?"

Embry snapped out of his daze just enough to reply. "Yeah—I mean, no—I mean..." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I broke up with her. Last night."

Jared groaned. "Oh, man."

Paul let out a loud, incredulous laugh. "You fucking idiot."

Embry glared at him. "I didn't know I was gonna imprint!"

Paul doubled over, still laughing. "Timing is impeccable, bro."

"Fuck you Paul." Embry muttered as he yanked open his locker.

Jared muttered, "This is gonna be a mess."

Embry ran a hand through his now-short hair, glancing toward the hallway again, where Luna had vanished. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It already is."

Jared clapped Embry on the back. "Hey, man, it's easy. You can fix this. Just go get some flowers, chocolate, whatever she likes—then get on your knees and beg. Should work."

Paul snorted. "Don't get on your knees."

Jared rolled his eyes. "Okay, not literally. But groveling is part of the process."

Paul shrugged. "Dude, just act like you don't care. Play it cool. Girls totally dig the 'hard to get' thing."

Jared gave him a slow, deadpan look. "Don't listen to Paul."

Paul grinned like he just won a trophy. "Whatever, I get more girls than both of you put together."

Jared laughed. "Yeah, because your personality's like a dial-up modem—loud, annoying, and nobody wants to stick around. All you gotta do is take your shirt off and hope for the best."

Paul just shrugged, "Works, doesn't it?"

Embry waved his hands like he's trying to shoo a swarm of flies. "You two aren't helping. And I've got math—like, now."

────୨ৎ────

                            The rest of the school day dragged on like an eternity. Every second felt heavier than the last, and Embry found himself constantly checking the clock, counting down the minutes until he could see Luna again. His heart hammered every time she was anywhere nearby, but she barely noticed—too caught up in her own swirl of confusion and hurt.

Luna, on the other hand, dreaded every moment. Seeing Embry's intense stare was like reopening a fresh wound, twisting up all the messy memories of their breakup.

She didn't know what to make of it, just that it left her feeling raw and unsettled.

Now, at their lockers, the air between them was thick. Embry lingered awkwardly nearby, stealing quick glances, while Luna busied herself with her things, trying to seem indifferent but failing. The hallway buzzed with students, but for them, the noise faded into background static — their shared tension filling the space instead.

Luna waltzed up to him, her expression unreadable but her tone sharp and cold. "Hey. Come with me."

Embry blinked, caught off guard, but nodded and followed her without a word. They walked side by side down the hallway, the silence stretching between them like a tightrope neither wanted to break.

Finally, Embry tried, "Luna, I—"

She cut him off, voice clipped and firm. "I don't care, Em."

The nickname hit him like a punch to the chest—soft and raw, but still hers, still theirs. His heart lurched.

Without another word, Luna yanked open Tahlia's car door and shoved a heavy box into his arms.

"What's this?" Embry asked, glancing down at the box.

"All your shit," she said flatly, then turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there stunned.

She locked Tahlia's car with a sharp click and stood there for a second, staring at the ground, willing the sting behind her eyes to disappear.

No. Not here. Not now.

With a sharp inhale, she turned on her heel and marched back inside the school building. Each step echoed down the hallway, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the linoleum. She didn't look back.

The moment the doors shut behind her, the weight of it all started pressing down again. The box, his stunned face, that damn nickname he used to love her saying. Her throat tightened.

She kept her chin up, walking faster, slipping into the girls' locker room to change for cheer practice. Her hands shook as she tied her shoes, but she blinked back the tears.

She wasn't going to cry. Not over him. Not here.

────୨ৎ────

                          After practice, Tahlia pulled up to Luna's driveway, the car still humming as she parked. Luna unbuckled her seatbelt without a word.

"You sure you're okay?" Tahlia asked, glancing over at her.

Luna gave her a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I'm good. Thanks for the ride."

"You want me to come in? We could eat something, watch trash TV—"

"I'm okay," Luna repeated, firmer this time. "Really."

Tahlia hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but nodded. "Okay. Text me if you need anything."

Luna grabbed her bag and slipped out of the car, waving once before heading up the front steps. She unlocked the door and stepped into the quiet house, toeing off her shoes and heading straight for her room.

Her backpack thudded against the floor as she dropped it by her desk. She kicked off her sneakers and peeled off her hoodie, her skin still sticky with sweat from practice. She cracked open the window, letting the cool evening air in. A breeze stirred the edge of the papers on her desk.

The house was silent. Her dad was still at work. So was her stepmom. Just the steady ticking of the clock and the distant chirp of birds outside.

She sank into her desk chair and opened a textbook, trying to focus on equations and vocabulary lists instead of the ache in her chest.

Don't think about him. Just get this done. Be productive.

But the breeze drifted in, smelling faintly like rain and cedar and something else—something warm and familiar. Something that reminded her of him.

She shut her eyes for a second. Then forced herself to keep writing.

Luna didn't know how long she'd been staring at the same math problem, the numbers swimming on the page. The room had dimmed with the evening light, and the breeze slipping in through her window had turned colder—almost sharp. She rubbed her arms and stood up to shut it.

That's when she heard it.

A soft thud.

Not inside the house.

On the roof.

She froze. Heart pounding. Rational thought tried to kick in—maybe a branch, maybe a squirrel—but something in her gut said no.

The air changed. Thickened.

Luna turned away from the window and stepped back, her instincts screaming. She reached for her phone on the desk—but it wasn't there. She must've left it in her bag. She spun around—

—There was someone in her room.

A woman.

Tall. Slender. Pale as bone. And with a waterfall of tangled, fiery red hair that shimmered even in the gloom.

Her eyes were bloodred.

Luna's scream caught in her throat.

"Hello, little thing," the woman said, her voice a silky whisper. Musical. Inhuman.

Luna stumbled back, her heel hitting the edge of her desk chair. "Who—who the hell are you?"

The woman smiled. No fangs—she didn't need them to look dangerous. Her smile alone was enough to freeze Luna's blood.

"Victoria," she said, as if they were making introductions at a tea party.

"I—I'll scream," Luna said, though her voice cracked.

"Oh, please do," Victoria purred. "It won't change a thing."

She moved too fast. Blindingly fast. One second she was across the room, the next she was inches from Luna, her hand curled around her throat—not choking, not yet, just holding her like a toy.

Luna kicked and clawed, but it was like trying to fight stone.

"I've been watching you," Victoria murmured, almost fondly. "You smell like him."

"Him?" Luna gasped, vision blurring.

"The wolf."

Victoria's grip tightened, just enough to make stars explode in Luna's eyes.

"Your little boyfriend is keeping something from me," Victoria hissed. "So I'll keep something from him."

And then Luna was gone.

The cold air rushed past her face, the trees a blur. They were flying—no, running. Victoria's arm was like iron around her, unyielding, as she carried Luna through the woods like she weighed nothing.

Luna tried to scream again, but the wind stole her breath.

And Darkness swallowed them whole.