She took her time finishing getting ready, changing her outfit a few times before finally settling on a dark crimson tank top which clung to her curves, and a pair of black jeans. Typical work attire. Even though it was her birthday, someone had to go into town and open Crescent, the bar run and owned by the Pack. After contemplating just jamming her long dark curls into a messy bun, Ophelia finally decided to just let them run freely down her back. Besides, they blocked her scars from view better that way.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed her door open and poked her head out. The hallways were empty. Good. That meant most of the others must still be sleeping. Stepping out into the hallway, Ophelia took in a deep breath. She could smell someone cooking breakfast and as her stomach growled, the sounds of pots being slammed around could be heard from downstairs, followed by loud cursing. Had to be Bucky. That boy always had to make a five-course breakfast when it was someone's birthday.
Shit. She still couldn’t believe that she had completely spaced on the fact that it was her birthday today. With everything that had been going on, her new status, all those council meetings…she couldn’t believe that she had forgotten about her own birthday. Not that she had ever been a fan of her birthday, to begin with, but she should have known it was coming up. Her friends always made a big deal of it, she should have picked up on something...their behavior…
Lost in thought as she started down the stairs, she was unable to hold in her growl when a hand suddenly came down on her shoulder from behind, causing her to flinch, lips curling back exposing her teeth as she spun around.
"Phee…" Ophelia felt herself instantly relax as she focused on her best friend. Cordelia Marsters, who preferred to be called Delia, took a step back from her, looking guilty as her hand quickly dropped down to her side. Standing at just under six feet, the redhead was easily one of the most beautiful of all their Pack members.
The redhead's eyebrows were knitted together, and her usual bright smile was nowhere to be seen, instead her eyes were downcast, a small pout playing on her friend’s lips. Ophelia hated this. Hated that everyone was so different around her now. They were all acting as if one wrong move would push her over the edge...didn`t they understand?
Taking another step down, she steadied herself against the banister, crossing her arms over her chest defensively "What?" The question came out a litter harsher than she might have intended and she watched as her friend flinched slightly.
"Nothing...just...here..." Delia produced a small box from behind her back and presented Ophelia with it. "Er...Happy Birthday..." Her smile wavered.
Wordlessly, Ophelia stared at the box in her friend's hand for a moment before reaching out to take it from her, wetting her dry lips with her tongue. It was neatly wrapped...she had obviously put some time into this, and judging by the hopeful look she had in her eyes, it was something she had put a lot of thought into as well. It almost made her feel guilty. But she couldn't...she couldn't allow any more emotions to play around in her brain...to fuck her up even more than she already was. No more distractions this morning…
"Well?" Delia gave out a nervous chuckle "Ain't ya gonna open it?"
"Later..." The reply came out fast and harsh, and she almost wished she could suck the word back into her mouth even as it seemed to echo around her...
"Oh..." Delia’s face fell. "Yeah sure...alright..." the hand that had been holding the gift dropped to her side and her gaze shifted downwards. "Heh...take ya time 'kay? I mean your birthday's all day right?" Delia nodded as if answering her own question and turned around, her back tense as she marched back up to the hallway. After a moment, Ophelia heard a door upstairs slam shut, and she winced softly. God, she hated this...she hated how they were all tip-toeing around her. They didn't have to...it was just another day...just another birthday...
Sighing defeatedly, she continued down the stairs until she reached the main landing and headed in the direction of the manor’s kitchen, following her nose. As she pushed the swinging doors to the kitchen and stepped inside, the smell of crisp bacon and fresh toast instantly welcomed her. She let out a tiny sound of happiness and her stomach growled.
"Well, someone's being an uber-bitch today..."
Looking over at the stove, she watched as Bucky Harris moved about, never skipping as he pushed contents of food onto plates, his long blond ponytail swinging as he moved. His words caused her to crack a small smile. Out of her whole Pack, Silas’s younger brother, Bucky seemed to be the only one who's attitude hadn't changed much around her since her Father's downfall. "So you killed your old man...big whoop!" he had said to her. "You had to do what you had to do, right?" He was the only one who was trying to keep the norm around here...thank god for that...
Ophelia slumped into one of the seats at the table and shrugged her shoulders, her long dark hair falling along her upper back. "Yeah well...why should today be any different?" She arched an eyebrow, and snagged a piece of bacon from the plate in the center of the table, breaking off a piece before popping it between her lips. It was extra crispy...just the way she liked it...the others hated it that way. He was spoiling her...
"Doesn't give you an excuse to be a bitch..."
"Like I said...what makes today any different..."
Bucky threw back his head and laughed, his long blond curls bouncing. God, she loved his laugh...it was one of the most real sounds she had heard in ages.
Sticking out her tongue in reply, she grabbed another piece of bacon, watching as her Pack mate worked about the kitchen. It was only then that she still realized she still held Delia’s gift. Looking guiltily up at Bucky, she swallowed the last bite and carefully tore at the wrapping paper surrounding the box. She hesitated when the white jewelry box came into view and could feel a lump forming at the back of her throat as she slowly lifted the top. A tiny gasp escaped her.
“God I really am a bitch…”
“Hmmm…?”
Bucky turned and saw Ophelia limply holding up a gold necklace. Dangling from the end of its chain was a simple crescent moon charm.
“Oh yeah…she saw that awhile back and bought it for you…I think waiting for your birthday was one of the hardest things she ever had to…” Bucky paused, noticing the look on his Alpha’s face. Her eyes had scrunched up slightly and she was biting down on her lower lip.
“Hey…hey…look, she gets it. I promise. We all do…”
Ophelia didn’t say anything. Cradling the chain for a moment, she returned the necklace to its box and gently pushed it away from her on the table. “I don’t deserve this…” she mumbled, causing Bucky to frown. Moving away from the stove, he came over to the table and took a seat across from her, pushing the necklace back towards her.
“Wear it, please...” He smiled softly, and hesitated, unsure if he should be demanding her of anything. Even something as simple as this. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to his childhood friend being the leader of their Pack now.
Avoiding his gaze, Ophelia touched the box gently before letting out a tiny sigh. “Okay…”
He waited until the golden moon was resting nicely against her neck before he went back to his place at the stove, humming the birthday song softly. Ophelia could tell he was pleased with himself and it caused her to smile a little.
“Tell her thank you for me, will you?” Pushing her chair back, she came up beside the blonde and leaned up on tiptoe to kiss her friend on his cheek, snagging a muffin at the same time. “I have to go check on things at the bar.”
“But I’m not finished cooking yet!” She could hear him pouting as she headed out from the kitchen. “Save me a plate!” she yelled back over her shoulder. As she headed towards the front of the house, a few of the others stopped her to wish her a happy birthday. Thanking each one, in turn, she caught sight of her reflection in a mirror hanging in the foyer and smiled as she focused on her new necklace. It was exactly like the one her mother, Lydia had had, a fact she knew was the reasoning behind Delia’s gift.
As Ophelia headed out of the Manor, she kept on hand against its charm.
“Happy Birthday to me…” she mumbled softly.
