Angelo: The Alpha's Male Luna

Birds were singing again with their beak, clicking with each other after each tone.

Like, aggressively.

Acting like they would be separated if they did not do such a thing.

Angelo groaned and shoved a pillow over his head. The chirping sounded way too cheerful for six in the d*mn morning. It was giving main character energy, and not in a good way.

"Why you are so noisy every morning?" he mumbled at the window, as if the birds would take offense with what he just said and fly off in shame.

Spoiler though, they didn’t.

Instead, the chirping of the two bird was even louder, as if afraid Angelo won't hear them chirping at all.

The sunlight still managed to snake through the gaps in the curtains and smack him right in the face. Bright. Unapologetic. He blinked once, twice, then squinted like a vampire waking from the dead.

“Ugh.”

"Please shut up!" he murmured, burying his face over in the pillow.

But of course, the world didn’t stop spinning just because he wanted five more minutes of rest.

He sat up and stared at nothingness in a daze.

And then finally eyes narrowing after realizing what day is it today.

Today was his first day at St. Wolfie Academy.

St. Wolfie Academy... where every species no matter pure breed, half breed or a forbidden mixed.

Yeah, that place. Fancy-*ss school with a name that sounded like a werewolf fanfiction. Everyone called it prestigious. He called it a glorified circus. Hyprotically opening their arms wide for others while having such a name that only glorify werewolves.

And guess who got a one-way ticket to the freakshow?

Yours truly.

He peeled himself off the bed, limbs stiff and groggy. Shirtless, he dragged his feet toward the bathroom. The old floorboards creaked under his weight like they were personally offended he still lived here.

Angelo rolled his eyes, treating like the things inside his room were alive.

The water from the shower was ice cold for a second before finally warming up. He stood under it longer than necessary, watching it hit his pale skin, his ribs slightly visible in the mirror. He rubbed his arm. Scrubbed hard. Harder than he should’ve.

As if a masochist that can't get enough with the pain he inflicted upon himself.

But after all, if it were others, he would have already sent that person flying over to another planet, having its own helpless life--all alone.

When he stepped out, his skin was blotchy pink.

“Dear god,” he muttered, toweling off his hair. “Why do I have skin softer than a K-pop idol?”

He meant it as a joke. Kinda. Sorta.

But the thought lingered.

He stared at his reflection. Eyes like black glass. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut. Collarbones peeking out like they were trying to say hi.

He didn’t feel pretty. He felt… haunted. And so d*mn tired.

This kind of appearance was really too tiring for him to bear, especially having those families, that can't be said to be a family to himself.

Throwing on some old black jeans and a too-small tee, he was halfway through digging for socks when—

Knock knock.

He froze. Weird.

His maid, Anna, usually avoided this time slot like the plague. She knew he changed around now. Her knocking? That meant either the house was on fire, or something was up.

Still shirtless, he padded over to the door and cracked it open.

Anna stood there, lips parted, eyes locked on his torso. Her gaze dropped to his stomach—and lingered.

Angelo raised a brow, feeling slightly irritated but still suppressed his temper.

He smiled with his lips, but with no emotion inside his eyes.

“See something you like?” he teasingly asked, though his tone was somewhat so cold.

Anna blinked.

“Oh—uh—I—I brought your uniform!” she said way too fast, cheeks going full cherry blossom.

He smirked. “D*mn. Calm down, Anna. Didn’t realize I was such a thirst trap before 7AM.”

Her face turned red. She looked like she might combust on the spot. But Angelo just leaned casually on the doorframe, letting the silence do its job.

His voice dropped to a teasing drawl. “What does this young lady want from me? Or should I say... wolf girl?”

That did it.

Her breath hitched. And then—snap—his eyes shifted. Not just figuratively. Literally. From black to deep, burning red.

Anna flinched. Something inside her stirred.

“Danger, Anna. That’s the real him—get it together. Say what you came to say and bounce!”

Anna shook like she’d been slapped. “Th-the uniform! It—it’s been delivered! That’s all! Sorry!”

Angelo tilted his head, smile still sharp.

Anna bolted like hellhounds were at her heels.

Down the hallway, behind the safety of a wall, she clutched her chest and gasped for air.

‘God, he’s too s*xy. It was tooo much that it is becoming unfair,’ she thought, with furrowed brows.

Adina, her other half, grumbled in her head. "He’s not yours. He is way out of your league in every sense."

Anna huffed. “So what? Maybe I’ll be his Luna someday.”

Silence.

When Anna thought she had won in an argument, her face darkened after hearing her other half words.

“He is a luna, not an alpha. How can he ask you to be his luna?" Adina deadpanned while asking.

Anna, just internally screamed.

Back in the room, Angelo closed the door and glanced down at the thin-*ss school uniform laid across his bed.

He poked it, eyes widening in utter shock and disarray. “Seriously? Are they trying to get me arrested for indecent exposure? I know I got the body, but seriously?”

Still, he slipped it on. Buttoned the too-tight shirt. Pulled on the stiff jacket. Looked in the mirror.

He was.... seductively gorgeous.

He sneezed once, sniffled, and looked out the window at the sprawling city below.

“St. Wolfie Academy,” he muttered. “Let’s see how long it takes to burn this place down.”

The corner of his lips cocked up as he thought so, then once again looked at his gorgeous self on the mirrorb with his foxy eyes narrowed down in playfulness.

The hallway to the dorm room was dead silent, except the mocking squeak of Angelo’s suitcase wheels, disrupting the original quietness of the place.

Angelo stopped as he raised his head.

He found the door. The door of his dorm.

He didn't knock obviously.

It has never been in his vocabulary to be polite anyway.

The door creaked open—and there he was.Already here.

Roommate.

Perfect posture. Blonde. Shirt buttoned up properly. Reading a book with such focused gaze...

Angelo eyes rolled, not caring about this man that smelled something out of control, as he wheeled his suitcase and closed the door with a loud click.

Successfully making his focused roommate to furrow his brows.

But still, the guy didn’t look up.

“Guess I’ll take the bed that doesn’t smell like someone ironed their soul onto it,” Angelo finally said, sitting on the one closer to the door. His lips curling up as he faced his roommate direction.

Though.