Her craving, Her brother

Lumi’s POV

Last night keeps replaying in my head. The way Caius touched me—slow, patient, like he wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere. Like he already knew I wasn’t going anywhere. His hands, the way he held my waist. The way his voice dropped when he said my name.

My body still feels it, that soft ache, low and deep, not painful…just there. A reminder of last night. 

And soon, I will be getting married to him. A small, giddy smile pulls at my lips as I stare at my reflection.

Finally—

“Ah—!”

The sharp sting cuts through everything. I jerk slightly as the zipper digs into my skin.

“Wait—don’t move,” Wren says quickly behind me, her fingers pausing at my back. “It’s stuck.”

I suck in a breath, my hand instinctively going to my side.

“That hurts,” I mutter.

She tries again, slower this time, tugging carefully. The zipper doesn’t budge.

“You should’ve lost some weight if you wanted to wear this for your engagement.”

The words drop casually. I don’t turn. I just stare at myself in the mirror, then the dress. 

It’s beautiful, champagne-white, soft, and expensive. The kind of fabric that hugs instead of hides. It clings to my waist, my hips, every curve I’ve been pretending not to notice lately.

And now, I notice everything.

Behind me, Wren exhales softly. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.”

I meet her eyes through the mirror. She’s smiling, but not fully.

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” I say quietly.

“I know, I know,” she says quickly, already adjusting the zipper again. “I talk too much. You know how I am.”

Yeah, I do. But that didn’t change the sting that came with your words.

The zipper loosens slightly as she pulls it down. Relief.

“It actually looks good on you,” she adds, softer now. “Like… really good.”

Her fingers linger at my waist for a second. Then she lets go.

“You’re really going through with it,” she says.

Something in her tone makes me pause.

“With what?” I ask, turning slightly.

“The engagement.” She shrugs, but her eyes don’t match it. “I mean… you’re actually doing it.”

There’s something there, something she’s not saying. I straightened a little.

“Yeah,” I say, a small smile forming again. “I am.”

That smile doesn’t reach her. She nods.

“Right.” A pause, then she said. “You always go all in, don’t you?”

I frown slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs again, looking away this time.

“Nothing. Just… you don’t half-do anything. Once you decide, that’s it.”

There it is again, that edge. I tilt my head slightly, studying her.

“I love him, Wren.”

The words come easy. And for a second, something flickers across her face. Gone just as fast.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling again. “I know.”

Then in a quieter tone. “You really do.”

The way she says it doesn’t sit right. But before I can think too much about