Soy Luna One Shots [English]

was it ever meant to be?

Hi. I bet you never expected to hear from me again. Well, I've been having the worst few weeks of my life and I have been very heartbroken and so I had a random surge to write this heartbreaking piece. Its the first time I've written in 6 months. Its 2 AM and it's almost 3k which is way more than I expected it to be. And I never thought I'd write Lutteo again. But I had been missing them lately. So here we are. Maybe I'll come back and work on a few old drafts I've had for over a year. if anyone is still here to care. But for now, just have this not proofread thing bc again its 2 AM. Also this was partially inspired by the song Moral of the Story by Ashe since it's been on repeat. Ok bye.

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At the ripe age of 18 years old, Luna had felt like everything in her life was at the right time and place. She gained full rights and ownership to the mansion, she was more confident and passionate about skating than she had ever been before, her parents happily supported her every step with open arms and endless love, thriving in their own careers as well. And Matteo.

They fought so hard for their relationship. So many highs and lows and arguments, makeups and breakups, laughter, kisses, silly banters, duets. Everything they did together every part of their journey every step of their way, this was their peak. They finally made it to a happily ever after, everything now in their relationship full of love and cherishment. They loved each other so profoundly, so wholeheartedly, like neither one of them had ever felt or experienced before.

That whole summer of her being 18, endless date nights at the park, the movies, the beach, in the sheets of her bed, carefree and fun. There were no worries to be had, no stress of school neither had worked. Just the two of them, the whole summer, in each other's arms for as long as time let them. That was their happiest and simplest of times. And the moments that they would look back on most when they reminisced on their better times.
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Luna comes home as quietly as possible but also struggles to maintain her noise level from how exhausted she is. She quietly takes off her shoes and kicks them to the side in the shoe basket by the front door, before stumbling to the couch, face forward plopping her body down. She had gone into work at 9 am and it was now almost 11 pm. Normally her days aren't this but when the national skating competition is weeks away, being one of the coaches, as well as being in the midst of planning the launch of her own skate collection in a few months, free time just doesn't seem to be a thing for her anymore. And she loves all her work, she wouldn't throw herself this much into it if she didn't. She felt she had the energy to take on a lot of projects at this time in her life, however, it takes away time from her little family, who she misses every chance she thinks about them during work or in her day in general.

She hears creaking footsteps coming from upstairs making their way down. "Luna?", she hears a woman's voice calling. However, Luna doesn't say anything or move to get up, but just groans loud to indicate that she was there. Soon the footsteps get louder and the somewhat softer when the woman is standing right in front of her. Monica. With her arms crossed in front of her. Looking a bit stern at her daughter.
"You said you'd be home by 9," Monica stated in a hushed voice. Luna rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes, not caring is she smears her hours' old makeup all over her face. "I'm sorry, I tried. But I kept getting pulled back with last-minute things," she tried to explain. Monica winced. "Well, the girls missed you tucking them in tonight. You need to make it up to them."

Her daughters. 11 and 6. She would never in a million years forget about them under any circumstances. They're her whole world. But on days like these, when she misses being with them most, yet can't come home, it pains her deeply.

Luna covers her eyes with her forearm trying to steady her breath. It's been quite tough on all of them. It had been a few months since she separated from her ex-husband, Thiago, an ex-world renown skater from Uruguay, whom she had met in her early professional competition days when she was younger. Perhaps they had rushed their relationship too fast, she had thought over and over during the process of their separation. That they had married too young, she had gotten pregnant right away. So much had happened all at once, she had thought her life had been completed and fulfilled. A winning world skating champion, married with a family, living comfortably in the mansion that was passed down to her from her Abuelo. She could absolutely never complain. She believed she had practically won at life.