Status: I'm currently on holiday, so the chapters will hopefully be coming faster than usual

Rhapsody

Arrogant Irish Prat

“Mr Aldridge, the table is not a foot rest. Sit up properly please.” Miss Korby commanded, her sweet voice stern and powerful as she stood with her hands on her hips, frowning disapprovingly at Max. Lazily, deliberately, he stared blankly back at her, dropping one foot, then the other, heavily, tauntingly, to the ground. The other kids stared; they looked a little frightened of him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Luna, and we can get started.” Miss Korby prompted. Luna nodded, meekly making her way over to the seat next to Max. She wasn’t usually so introverted, but the tingles down her spine were making her wary. Sitting at the desk, she glanced furtively over at the boy, placing her bag at her feet.

The sun shone brightly through the glass windowpane, highlighting the gold and orange tones in Max’s deep red hair, reminding Luna of the colours in a candle flame. The thin, pale blue veins appeared along his high cheekbones and hairline; his snowy, almost deathly white skin seemed to have a subtle, unearthly glow to it. She found that she couldn’t look away.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It lasts longer.” Luna started; she hadn’t realised he caught her staring at him. She was also surprised by the sound of his voice. Max possessed a thick, Irish accent, the deep baritone marred by annoyance.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” What in the world was wrong with her? Had she completely lost her backbone??

“Yeah, well I don’t appreciate being gawked at.” He dismissed, turning his jewel-like eyes on her, a frown forming a crease in his smooth brow, “So try not to let it happen again, alright?” Max’s tone was condescending, coddling, as though he were speaking to a child.

Luna felt her mouth drop open. A familiar buzzing, tingling feeling surged through fingertips and palm of left hand, which was currently resting on her thigh, clenched into a fist, the leather straining over her knuckles. Reaper’s held the ability to paralyse an enemy by gathering energy into their bodies, and projecting it out of their dominant hand, like a jolt of static electricity. It didn’t kill, merely knocked them out.

The rest of the lesson was tense. She could feel the anger pulsating under the surface, threatening to explode. Luna possessed a cold, calm temper, and effectively the most deadly kind. When the bell rang, she turned on Max, blocking his exit.

“Mind getting out of my way, girly?” he said, looking at her expectantly. Finally, the dam that held the anger back burst and everything came rushing forth like a flood, the energy in her hands becoming almost corporeal, the thin air shimmering and cracking like an electrical storm.

“Who do you think you are, you arrogant prat?” She demanded, glaring at him, her blue and green eyes flashing angrily. Max raised his eyebrows, as though he had not been expecting her to answer back.

“Excuse me?” he said, the shock evident on his absurdly handsome face.

“You heard me! Don’t you dare act like you know me! I am not an imbecile, and I don’t appreciate being treated like one! So I suggest if you want to see the moon rise, you’ll think twice and keep your comments to yourself!!” Luna was practically yelling. She spun on her heel and stormed gracefully out of the room, leaving a confused and stunned Max standing by their desk, his eyes wide, mouth fixed open in surprise.

Stalking through the halls, Luna made her way to maths, placing her slip of paper on the teacher’s desk and throwing herself into her seat next to Ruby.

“You okay, Luna?” Gavin asked, turning to face them from his desk in front.

“You seem upset.” Ruby added, her unseeing eyes fixed on her book on the tabletop, her uncanny knack for knowing the impossible kicking in.

“I’m fine.” Luna replied shortly, placing her things on the table. Gavin shrugged, placated, turning back around as the teacher, Mr Johns, called the class to order.
For the hour she drowned herself in equations, the numbers and lines filling her mind and leaving no room for thoughts of a certain red-haired a-hole.

After the final bell, having unsuccessfully spent an hour trying to forget those infuriatingly hypnotising blue eyes, Luna made her way over to her father’s hearse, her exposed skin stinging from the fading effects of the sunscreen. Conrad was waiting for her by the car door, a black parasol in hand.

“Good afternoon, Miss Luna,” he said, meeting his young mistress halfway. Her sigh of relief was audible as the cooling darkness of the parasol came over her, the stinging fading, leaving only a pink rash on her arms, fingers, neck, chest and face.
Conrad opened the passenger door for Luna, closing the parasol as she slid inside.

Opening the glove compartment, she pulled out a tube of antiseptic cream, rubbing it gently into her tender skin as Conrad started the car and pulled out of the lot. Luna spotted Max and his friends by their vehicles. Once again, they locked eyes. There was no anger in his stare, just a strange, curious, defiant annoyance as he took a short swig of something from a black squeeze bottle.

“Where’s dad?” she asked, the trees and houses speeding past.

“He had a Council meeting,” Conrad answered cryptically. Luna just nodded. The Haven Council, as far as she knew, was a group of elders that came together every once in a while to talk about inter-species affairs. Revising laws, keeping the peace, that sort of thing; sometimes Roger was away for days. It was all boring politics as far as Luna was concerned, and she really wanted no part of it.

Upon arrival at the manor, the young Reaper decided a little training was in order, to help flush out the stress of the day and hone her physical skills. She informed Conrad, who simply bowed his head.

“Very good, Miss Luna; dinner shall be ready promptly at six-thirty.” He said, and Luna thanked him, heading to her bedroom to prepare. It had been a long day and a good workout in their basement dojo was exactly what she needed.

The dojo was a large room with wood panelled floors, covered by a large, cushioned mat. Wooden dummies were set up at regular intervals, each covered in dents, chips and worn smooth around, and gym equipment stood around the room, rings, beams and the like. There was a room in the back containing walls and cabinets of various weapons and tools.
Luna descended the stairs into the basement, dressed in a pair of black cotton track shorts, a red running bra and a pair of trainers, carrying a towel and a large bottle of water. Her long black hair was tied into a ponytail, her face clear of makeup.

To Luna, the dojo was a sanctuary. It was the place she came when she needed to relieve her stress; nothing unwound her nerves like pummelling a wooden target doll almost to sawdust.

As she moved, the music of her favourite mortal band, Paramore in the background, she relished in the pull and tug of her sinewy muscles, the need to overcome her own limits and physical exertion.

After an hour of combat work, Luna moved to gymnastics, flipping and twisting, swinging gracefully on a set of uneven bars before performing a perfect dismount, tumbling three times, and sticking the landing with ease.

The sound of clapping caught Luna’s attention. She turned to the door and smiled widely.

“Dad! You’re home!” Roger smiled, his electric eyes crinkling at the sides, the scar tugging at his skin gently, pulling it taught in places. Flinging her towel over her neck, Luna jogged over and hugged her father, smiling.

“How was the meeting?” she asked, pulling back to look into his face, which was almost two heads above hers.

Roger shrugged nonchalantly, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulder and leading them out of the basement, “Was okay. It was nothing special, just a bunch of old men sitting around, talking politics. We did have to put more restrictions on the trolls, though.”

“They were trying to get into Heart of the Fae again, weren’t they?” Luna asked, wrinkling her nose as Roger nodded solemnly. Trolls were beastly creatures, ugly beyond reason and evil to the core. They were constantly trying to steal magic and life from the fae, the faeries, nymphs, pixies, elves and the like, in order to break the bonds that have held them at bay from the human world for centuries.

“Until they learn to live in peace with all creatures, they will be forever barred from the realm of mortals and in turn, contact with the rest of the supernatural.” He explained gravely, a tone of sadness in his deep voice. Although Roger was the Grim Reaper, the Angel of Death, the Harbinger of Darkness and all that, he was essentially a very non-violent person, preferring to talk things over rather than have to use force and violence. But he also knew the value of peace, and thus was resigned to using his power when the situation demanded, such as with the trolls.

Shaking the fog from his eyes, Roger smiled down at his daughter as they walked to the dining room, “Anyway, how was school?”

Luna gulped. What would she tell him? That she had been insulted by a handsome but insolent boy whom she was intrigued by and at the same time, wanted to stay as far away from him and his family as possible?

“It was okay. I found all my classes and I even made some friends.” There, that would do. No need to make her father concerned in anyway. She could handle that...boy on her own.

“Well, that’s great! See, I told you if you were yourself, people would love you!” Roger exclaimed, a smile breaking out onto his face. Luna breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her father was so easily pleased sometimes.

The two arrived in the dining room at exactly six-thirty, and as promised, dinner was laid out on the table for them, fresh, hot and steaming. Conrad stood by the door, closing it behind his master and young mistress.

“Evening Conrad, dinner looks fantastic!” Roger beamed, taking his place at head of the table while Luna took hers just to the right of him. Conrad smiled in gratitude, bowing shallowly.

“Thank you, sir. If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave for tonight,” Roger nodded, his mouth already full of beans and mashed potatoes,

“Of coursh, you’ph earned it!” He said around his mouthful. He swallowed loudly and Luna raised an eyebrow at her father, pausing before her first mouthful entered her mouth, the fork poised in front of her for a second, “I’ll have one of the golem’s clear the table when we’re done.”

“Very good, sir,” Conrad said, bowing again to the both of them before going out one of the service doors towards the back of the room. The father and daughter finished dinner, and as though summoned by another force, a golem in the guise of a young maid appeared, clearing the table of all dishes, leaving without a word the way Conrad had left.

Luna said her goodnight to her father at the top of the stairs. She had homework to do before bed and Roger had some paperwork to finish. Walking down the still unfamiliar halls, the Reaper-child entered her bedroom, taking her books from her schoolbag and getting to work on her French and Math homework.

After an hour, Luna was finally finished. She put her books back in bag and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for bed. She dressed in the same pyjamas from the night before, throwing on a dressing gown and a pair of black sheepskin boots, walking out onto her balcony, brushing through her hair with an ornate silver brush that had once belonged to her mother.

The gentle breeze dried her long ebony hair quickly, the wavy tendrils dancing around her face gently as Luna wrapped her robe tighter around herself, stuffing her hands and the brush in her pockets as she gazed out over the town and up at the moon.

Suddenly, a dark shape by the forest around her home caught her eye. Blinking, Luna moved to the edge of the balcony, placing her snowy hands on the railing, scrutinizing the dense foliage. But there was no one there. She could have sworn there was someone; her eyes had never betrayed her before.

Maybe it was the stresses of the day coming back and making her tired mind see things. There were so many new experiences to take in in the mortal world, it was almost overwhelming. Frowning and shaking her head, Luna sighed, running a hand through her dark hair while walking back into her room, shutting and locking the French doors, closing the curtains behind her.

Down below, hiding within the confines of the forest, a figure stood, watching the house. As Luna went back into the house, the figure sighed, removing his hand from a nearby tree. Turning away, he glanced back at the house, his sapphire eyes filled with more conflicting emotions than could be counted. Finally, he broke into a run, becoming nothing but a streak of deep red and snowy white.
♠ ♠ ♠
Next time...

Gasping again, Luna spun around at a soft, cold touch on her bare shoulder, shivers of energy surging through her body. Her eyes widened as they landed on the tall, lean figure of Max Aldridge. He gazed unflinchingly down at her, fingertips grazing her uncovered skin.

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