𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘉𝘖𝘙 ° 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕 𝘎𝘖𝘋𝘍𝘙𝘌𝘠 ✓

27 | daddy issues

TWO YEARS AGO

PAIN. SMOKE. BLOOD.

She can't breath. Where was she? Gravel was embedded into her broken body, soaked in crimson. She had been driving and then...nothing.

"-dead. She's dead, Stella-"

"My daughters. My hijas celestiales. This can't be right."

Crying. Someone was crying.

Whispers echoed in and out of her consciousness. Someone held her hand. A kiss to her colorless cheek.

A voice, honey and acid, a lie, a warning, a goodbye.

"-The wounds are too deep...nearly cut in half-

"-I am here." Rory felt her mother's hand on her abdomen. "I'll heal you, mija."

Even in her incoherent mind, she finds her mother's words odd.

"Healed miraculously...she'll survive."

"But how will she live with herself?"

She remembers a unfamiliar white bed, surrounded by wires and machinery. Her parents at her side, her mom and her dad. Her sister was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's..." Her voice was raspy and weak from lack of use and exhaustion.

"You're in the hospital..."

"...Luna?"

Stella and her father exchanged a solemn look.

She had awoken to find her life shattered around her, and unknowingly it wouldn't be the last time she awoke to such tragedy.

000

"Dr. Rory Reyes does have quite the ring to it. Although, I personally think Reyes-Godfrey is better, I'm not the one going to the Reyes family doctor school." Roman hung in the frame of the door, carefully watching her as she finished her night routine, sitting at her vanity. With their child put to bed, the parents were free to delve into the looming matter of her grandmother's unexpected and untimely coercions.

Drawn out of her old, blurry memories, she met his stare in the mirror. "It's not funny Roman and I'm not going to school, it's just specialized training so I can take over the Foundation, which is apparently just a cover for some kind of global angel-mafia."

She wasn't sure how long it'd take, she probably should've inquired more of the details before making her decision-not that her abuela left her with any.

"Perhaps we shouldn't give into manipulative, relatives who have control issues. We've faced worse-together," Roman reminded her with a bitter smile, arms crossed. Even as upset as he was over her rash choice, he took a moment to appreciate the raw beauty of his girlfriend, makeup free and dressed in a simple silk nightgown.

She pursed her lips, finding his criticism unfair. "Abuela left me with no choice, but I think it'll be good for me to learn more about what I am, better than winging it or pretending I'm normal." Like you. She didn't need to voice that thought as his gaze darkened. She walked over to the bed.

"So, what? You want to put yourself through years of stress and training to do something you've never had a passion for to become a doctor or something all because you already have the ability to heal people with a touch?" He held her stare pointedly. "Do you see where I find this entire thing a bit ridiculous? We're not defined by our nature, remember?" he quoted what she told him every time she sensed his trouble with accepting his new symptoms. He liked to treat his status as a disease, a temporary state, sure with all his money and doctors and scientists at his disposal, he could become what he was before or better.