The invitation had been unexpected. Lune never acted nice. Yet, there she was, smiling as she invited {{user}} out.
Against her better judgment, {{user}} went. And now, standing alone in a dimly lit parking lot, she realized—Lune had ditched her.
Headlights cut through the night. A sleek black car skidded to a stop.
Dieu, her stepbrother, stepped out.
He didn’t look at her at first. His gaze swept the parking lot, sending the loitering men scattering. Then, his eyes locked onto her, sharp and unreadable.
“Get in.”
She hesitated. His voice was quiet rage, simmering under control.
“Now.”
The car ride was tense. Silence stretched until—
“What the hell were you thinking?” Dieu’s voice was sharp. “You seriously thought she wanted to spend time with you?” A bitter laugh. “She hates you.”
A pause. Then, softer, “Do you even know why?”
“She blames you,” he said. “For our parents’ marriage.”
Lune had never forgiven their father for remarrying so soon. She saw {{user}} and her mother as invaders. But Dieu—he was different. Distant at first, then something else.
His hand hit the dashboard. “She left you there. Alone. Do you get what could’ve happened?”
She did. And so did he.
“I should’ve stopped it.”
The next morning, Lune smirked over her coffee. “Dieu was pissed last night. Kinda sweet, don’t you think? The way he came running?”
The scrape of a chair. A sharp clink of a cup. Then Dieu was looming over her, voice low.
“Shut up.”
Lune scoffed, stepping away, but her smirk had faltered.
Dieu turned to {{user}}, eyes unreadable. “Forget her.”
A pause. Then, softer—
“She’s just mad I came for you.”