Page 23 of Luna Ascending

If I'm honest with myself, since the ball, and the utter fiasco of my great witchy revelation, my feelings for Marc have changed. As annoying and arrogant as I found him before, I'm starting to look beyond that. Maybe it's because I've been forced into close contact with him, and I need him for support. He's really the only person I can talk to about the 'new me'. It's not as if I can look Liz up and say “Hey! You know what? I'm a witch... whatcha think?”

Marc's become a solid fixture in my life, and I'm severely lacking those at the moment. It doesn't hurt that the man is devilishly handsome. I can't help thinking he's not like Aaron, but does have a body most women would die for. And now, without really noticing how it happened, I seem to be his.

It's surreal, like I'm living someone else's life. His family all thought we were already a couple because of the stunt we pulled ... and it's just snow-balled from there.

The more time I spend with him, the more I realise that he's really trying to help me make the best of myself. That, and he turned the charm on – started referring to me as his girlfriend without us really having 'that conversation'. But, he's a stable force when everything else is the unknown, and that has to be far better that trying to figure this shit out on my own.

I keep hearing Aaron's words over and over in my head – calling me a witch, and telling me to go back to the Coven – I was so upset at the time I didn't question how odd the words themselves were. He must have realised what I was, before I did... not that it matters, the revelation seemed to spark only pure hatred. I feel even more alone when I remember our argument, I have to stop thinking about Aaron. He hates me, and I've moved on.

In the past few weeks Marc’s whisked me off to some romantic spots that are truly astonishing. His plans are so last minute that I've cancelled several meet ups with Liz.

I think I was almost glad - I don't really know what I'm going to say to her. I hate that our friendship is waning. I need to make more effort. Marc thinks that some friendships just don't go the distance, and that making new friends within the Coven would be better for me.

I guess he's right, but it feels like such a wrench – we've been friends for so long, and from such different backgrounds to begin with. I can't give up on her just yet.

Sometimes when Marc leaves me alone for a while in the new apartment, with nothing much to do for myself (we have people for that – I already hate that phrase!) I start to nitpick, remembering all the things that annoy me about him. His overbearing attitude, the number of decisions he makes for me, the fact I'm now stuck here with nothing to do but study and wait for him to come home. We decided in the end it was going to be too risky for me to go back to school given all the surges that had already happened there. I hate being stuck here, reliant on him!

I'm here, all day, with the driest of dry books on the history of witches and a few plants for company. Marc obviously has his role in the family business to take care of, but still it grates on me, especially when he's away for days at a time. It's just loneliness, but it sucks. It has to be loneliness, because as soon as he steps over the threshold, it all melts away. None of the things I've spent the past days griping to myself about seem to matter any more. Maybe, I'm growing up. This isn't some silly school-girl style crush or infatuation – we're managing to put aside our differences and are compromising to be together.

Sometimes when I'm alone though I get this nagging doubt about Marc and I – things are all moving just a bit fast. The Freya of three months ago hated this guy touching her...

Chapter Eighteen

Freya's POV

“But are you happy?!” Liz demands stamping her foot on the creaking oak floor of our favourite book store and cafe.

“Yes, of course!” I snap, pissed off that my much missed, best and only friend can't just seem pleased for me.

“What the hell else could anyone want in a man... handsome, a body to die for, intelligent, loaded and a family of aristocrats...” I grumble on ignoring Liz' arched eyebrow “Liz, it's like a fairy-tale for someone who grew up like I did – flitting from one decaying council house to the next, with a mum so sloshed she forgot I was there half the time and a dad who never worked and definitely never cared.”

Liz looks contrite but I plough on, now I've started my tongue won’t stop.

“You've not lived what I lived. The choice was light or heating. We nursed our electricity meter through each day. Us kids were the ones that topped it up with money from our Saturday jobs, if mum hadn't drunk that away already. I was that dirty, smelly kid in school. You know, the one that no-one wants to be friends with, 'cause there wasn't hot water to wash.”

I catch my breath. “I live my adult life estranged from the only family I have simply because I hold down a job and pay my rent. They resent it – they assume I think I'm 'better than them', and they hate me for it.”

“I’m sorry Freya. I didn’t mean to upset you..”

“You don't live expecting the phone to ring any day with news that your mum's drunk herself to death, or that your dad’s bled out in a gutter after a bar fight. You don't have the constant worry that someday the police will call, to say your brother's stabbed someone, again. Your sister, with her stupid big hooped earrings and tarty skirts, hasn't had half the town in her bed and the other half hasn’t had her up against the wall around the back of the bloody bingo hall.” I sob, stopping only because I've run out of breath, and because Liz is choking me in a massive hug.

“It's my chance Liz” I hiccup “It's my chance to get out”.

“But, you were already out Freya. You were doing it by yourself...You know you were.” Liz starts, before thinking better of it.

To my relief she clamps her jaw shut on her opinions of 'Marciel', as she calls him, and just concentrates on cheering me up. Hot chocolate, books and mundane chatter about her romantic antics feature highly in the next half hour.

Her change of tact is a relief, but I can't help beating myself up over having had a massive go at my best friendandspilling my guts about some very private parts of my life. I'd never made a secret about having a crappy childhood but I've never gone into any of the grubby grimy details before. I've shocked her.

We salvage an enjoyable couple of hours before I have to leave to be back home before Marc. Liz fires off a parting shot that has me narrowing my eyes. I take a deep breath and decided to let it go. It echoes around in my head all the way back to the apartment though...

“Just make sure that man of yours is nothing like his family before you go falling head over heels for him.”

Slipping into the flat I'm relieved to be back before Marc. Humming away happily from an afternoon spent in good company I put my new books on the starched white of the bookshelf in the minimalistic living room. I haven't seen anyone except Marc and his family for weeks, and seeing Liz, and getting out of my own head for a bit is reviving.

Liz's gossip about her own relationship has got me feeling guilty I've not 'moved things on' with Marc. We've not gone beyond kissing and a little heavy petting... and I can tell Marc's getting impatient. I toy with ideas of how to get myself in the mood.

There's not really any excuse I can think of as to why I'm not leaping into bed with him. He's intelligent, powerful, rich, very good looking, and being exceptionally patient with me. It feels daft but, when I'm alone, I'm still far more turned on by the thought of Aaron. The Aaron who now pretends I don't exist. I have to forget about him, and concentrate on my new relationship.

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