My Long Lost Mate

Time seemed to stop the moment his lips touched mine, engaging me in a deeper, more passionate kiss. Everything around me blurred away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against mine. Heat rose from my stomach, my ċhėst, my cheeks. The feel of his body leaning against mine as he wrapped his arms around me felt nearly forbidden, and yet, I didn't pull away. 

The flutter inside me only intensified when I felt him gently pushing my body onto the bed, his elbow supporting his weight as he lay on top of me. He pulled me in, claiming my mouth again as I felt him wash over me like a wave of warmth. His touch felt as hot as a burning iron, and the taste of him was... hypnotic beyond reason. 

His kiss was hungry and intense, almost as though he'd been waiting for this all his life. I clung to him as if he was the lid to my pot—as if I'd never been shy to begin with. A low growl escaped his lips when he felt me react to his kiss, and little shivers shot through me as he deepened our kiss. By the time I realized what I was doing, I was already out of breath. 

"L-Luke," I pushed him away, my cheeks burning. 

My breath came out in a wild gasp as we pulled away, my heart uncontrollable.  His red eyes still loomed over my lips, longing for more of what we'd just had. The proximity between us had left my mind in shambles, and winter had never felt this warm before.

"Your lips... they taste good," he said, and I gulped, unconsciously biting my lower lip. "As good as Bob's chocolate cake," his eyes flickered to mine before leaning in for another kiss, which I quickly avoided. 

"Y-you only said one kiss a day," I stammered as I turned my face away, wanting to hide myself under the mattress behind my back. The tingles in my stomach refused to go away, while my heart refused to calm its beating. 

Was this the kind of kiss that he was talking about in his wish? If we were to kiss this way every day, then I'm afraid I'd end up with a heart condition in the next few weeks. 

"Can't I ask for more?" He tilted his head so innocently, as if he was asking for candy instead of a kiss. How could he stay so calm and composed when I was a complete wreck? Seeing me shaking my head, he moved away from me, but not before stealing a little peck on my lips. 

"N-no more kisses," I said, and he only laughed. I couldn't believe he stole two more kisses from me when he only asked for one! 

After he was no longer resting on top of me, I sat up, unsure where to look after everything that had happened. I cupped my cheeks, feeling them still burning even after minutes of stopping. Luke stood up from the bed and excused himself to the restroom. 

"I'm going to the restroom for a bit," he said, turning around towards his destination. But before he walked any further away, I noticed how he was touching his ears—red. His ears were red. 

Am I not the only one who felt shy? Perhaps he was merely concealing his own shyness, which was why he appeared calm. I couldn't stop myself from smiling, knowing that I'd affected him just as much as he affected me.

Looking at Luke, who had disappeared into the restroom, I laid down on the bed, hugging the pillow to my face. Seriously, what was that just now?! 

When he kissed me, it was as if my body reacted accordingly on its own. I couldn't push him away, almost as though I was addicted to... to the taste of him. Did Melissa also feel like this when she kissed Lord Ansel? It's weird. I felt giddy, nervous, shy, all at the same time. But whenever I looked back at our kiss, I... I wanted more—I gasped.

What did I just say?! 

I must have lost my mind!! How could I say I wanted more?! What will Luke think of me if he overhears me say anything like that?! Will he think I'm a pervert for—wait, will he be pleased? I hurriedly hit my head with my pillow, trying to stop myself from having such ȯbsċėnė thoughts. Surely I've gone mad because of him. 

He must've influenced me too much—in a bad way. 

I took deep breaths in and out, trying not to think about Luke, but before I realized it, my fingers were back on my lips. Ahh, I'm going crazy, really!! 

Well, if I must admit, I didn't hate our kiss. The feeling of his soft lips against mine, and the burning feeling whenever his fingers grazed my skin, I—I liked them. It felt as if I was floating, and the warmth of his body nearly silenced all thoughts, not letting my mind think anything else but him.

He captivated me so much to the point that he made me do things that I'd never done before, and yet, strangely, all I felt was an unknown sensation of pŀėȧsurė. Whatever things he brought with his lips, the light-headedness, the thrill, the knot in my stomach—I didn't hate them. In fact, I wanted more of them—though I was still too shy to let him know my dėsɨrė. 

I yearned for him just as much as he yearned for me.

He was the first—and most likely the last—person to make me feel like this. Just like how he was my first and my last, I wanted to be his first and last as well. I wanted to stay with him. 

I sat up, suddenly feeling my cheeks burning again after all the thinking I've been doing. To think that he could make me feel all sorts of things just by his touch made me wonder if... if this is how it feels to fall in love. Is this love that I feel? 

All of the joy, excitement, nervousness, and every other emotion—Are they the emotions that come with love? If being in love meant that he would be in my mind 24 hours a day, and if being in love would make me hate the idea of being apart from him, then... am I in love?

Just as I was thinking about it, Luke came out of the bathroom with his hair damp. We looked at each other, feeling the awkwardness filling the entire room. Luke cleared his throat as I looked away, fiddling with my dress. 

"Do you... do you want to go eat lunch?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck. I could see a hint of red in his cheeks. "I think Bob is cooking something delicious. I can smell it." 

Hearing it, I stood up, smoothening my dress. 

"S-sure," I stammered, trying to mask my awkwardness by laughing a little. Although it was not before hesitating, he held out his hand, asking me to hold onto his hand just like what we usually do. I, too, accepted his hand with a little hesitation. 

After all the boldness he'd shown me all this time, I didn't know he could also feel shy. 

Before we could reach the door, someone knocked on the door. 

"Alpha Sir, I'm Zeke," said a man by the other side of the door. Luke opened the door to show a tall man with deep blue eyes, his hair brown with a little curl at the sides. "I'm sorry for interrupting your time," he bowed, then glanced at me. "Luna." 

After all this time, I was still not used to being called Luna. 

"You're back," Luke patted his shoulders—twice—thanking him for his hard work. "Tell me all the things you've discovered about the village." Luke led me back to a sofa, asking me to sit while Zeke told us about his report. 

"The villagers—they acted as if they were controlled by something, day and night. I've been watching them for the past two days, and I noticed how they acted exactly the same, as if there was a schedule that they had to follow. When I approached them, they didn't even spare me a single glance. It was almost as if I was invisible in that village."

"What did they do?" 

"Just normal things people usually do. Cooking, cleaning, working—all the usual. Even the children played the same games for two days, all at the exact time." 

Whoever was controlling those villagers, did they do it on purpose to show that those people were normal villagers? Was the church the only trigger for them to abandon their schedules? 

"And what about the magistrate in that village? I've been told that he'd fallen ill and hadn't been seen for weeks. Did you look for him?" 

"I did," he said, holding the same blank expression. "The magistrate—he's not sick. He's dead."