Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPADVW9MNVSXBEWP8NAB25

The door creaked open, revealing Aurora Carter standing in the entryway of Eva's flat, a coiled spring of tension and uncertainty. Her bright blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the stacks of books, scattered research notes, and the tabby cat purring contentedly on a tattered armchair. Ptolemy lifted his head lazily, blinked once, and resumed his nap. Aurora shifted her weight, a nervous habit she'd never quite broken. "Rory?" Eva's voice was tinged with surprise. "What are you doing here?" Aurora cleared her throat, smoothing back her straight black hair. "Needed a place to think. Silas's bar was getting suffocating, and I remembered your flat was near." She tugged at her sleeve, revealing the crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist. "I… I’m sorry for showing up unannounced." “No need to apologize,” Eva replied, glancing down at her notes before sweeping them aside. She moved to brew a pot of tea, her movements deliberate as she tried to mask her curiosity about Aurora’s unanticipated visit. Silence hung between them like heavy mist. Aurora's eyes flicked over Eva, noting the familiar freckles scattered across her nose, the auburn curls falling around her face. Her heart ached with the weight of unfinished conversations and the residual sting of departure. As Eva poured hot water into the teapot, the doorbell echoed through the cramped flat. Aurora froze, gripping Eva's arm instinctively. "Expecting someone?" she whispered. Eva's brow furrowed. "No, it’s been quiet all day." They exchanged wary looks, a sense of foreboding thickening the air. Eva stepped forward, her hand hovering near one of the three deadbolts. Aurora edged closer, her pulse quickening. The door swung open, revealing Lucien Moreau. His tailored charcoal suit was impeccable as usual, contrasting disarmingly with his slicked-back platinum blond hair. The heterochromatic gaze—amber and black—locked onto Aurora with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Lucien," Aurora breathed, a mixture of surprise and apprehension coloring her tone. "Rory, always a pleasure," Lucien replied, his voice smooth as silk. He leaned on his ivory-handled cane, the tip tapping lightly against the worn floorboards. "Though I suspect you’re as surprised to see me as I am you." Eva’s eyes widened. “You know each other?” Aurora nodded, the memories tumbling back with a bittersweet edge. Their history was a patchwork of clandestine meetings, shared secrets, and unresolved emotions. Lucien had been an unlikely ally—half-demon, enigmatic, and inexplicably protective when her world had crumbled. “I didn’t expect you here either,” Aurora admitted. “What brings you to Eva’s flat?” Lucien’s eyes flicked to Eva. “Research. I needed to confer with our scholarly friend here about some texts from Avaros. But it seems our reunion is... fortuitous.” Eva cleared her throat. “Why don’t we sit? I made tea.” They settled into the makeshift seating area, books and scrolls pushed aside to make room. Aurora chose a spot by the window, the grey London sky matching the whirl of emotions within her. Lucien took the armchair while Eva poured the tea, the tabby cat curling up on his lap as though he belonged. “I didn’t think you knew where Eva lived,” Aurora said, her gaze locked onto Lucien's face. “It’s part of my job to know things,” Lucien replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. They sipped their tea in silence, the unspoken words thickening the air. Aurora's mind raced, replaying their last interaction—a whispered argument in the alley behind Silas’s bar, the hurt and longing etched into every heated word. “I’ve missed you, Rory,” Lucien said quietly, his eyes remaining unwaveringly on hers. Aurora swallowed hard. “Could’ve fooled me. I thought you were done with me after that night.” Lucien's smile faded. “You know it’s never that simple. The circumstances were... complicated.” Eva watched them, her tea forgotten. “You two have history, don’t you?” Aurora sighed, fingers tracing the rim of her porcelain cup. “We do. Lucien was there for me when I left Evan, helped me get my bearings. But... we parted ways on less than stellar terms.” “You mean,” Lucien interjected, “we fought about your refusal to let anyone properly help you.” Aurora's eyes flashed. “And you walked away.” Eva glanced between them, finally breaking the silence. “Maybe you both need to talk this through. Clearly, there's unresolved issues.” Lucien’s gaze softened, the unmasked vulnerability catching Aurora off guard. “It wasn’t just me walking away, Rory. We both made choices that led to that moment.” “Choices,” she echoed, voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I wish I’d made different ones.” Lucien leaned forward, placing his cane aside. “It’s never too late to change course. That’s why I’m here. There’s something I need to tell you.” Aurora’s pulse quickened. “What is it?” “There’s trouble brewing in Avaros. I’m tied to it, being half-demon. And—it involves Evan.” The mention of her ex sent a shiver down Aurora's spine. “Why are you bringing this to me?” Lucien’s eyes met hers, unwavering. “Because despite everything, I still care. And you deserve to know what’s coming.” Silence swelled again, heavy with contemplation. Eva rose smoothly, retrieving an old parchment from one of the stacks. “Avaros troubles aren’t new, but if Evan’s involved, Rory, you’re entangled whether you like it or not.” Aurora’s stomach churned as she stood, crossing the room to the window. The London streets stretched below, ordinary and indifferent to the maelstrom within her. She felt Lucien’s presence behind her before he spoke. “I never stopped worrying about you,” he murmured. “Even if it looked like I did.” Aurora turned, her bright blue eyes locking onto his heterochromatic gaze. “I don’t know if I can believe that.” Lucien exhaled slowly. “Then let me show you. Help me untangle this mess. Let’s face it together.” Eva’s voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t have to decide now, Rory. But think about it. Clearly, Lucien needs you. Maybe you need him too.” Aurora glanced at Eva, the faith in her friend’s eyes a balm to her tattered soul. She turned back to Lucien, her decision balancing on the knife-edge of uncertainty. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally, letting the weight of possibility settle. Lucien nodded, relief flickering across his features. “That’s all I ask.” As the evening light softened and the tea cooled, Aurora felt the first stirrings of hope. Perhaps the path ahead was uncertain, filled with shadows and echoes of the past. But with Lucien by her side, maybe—just maybe—she could find a way forward. The tabby cat blinked lazily at them, a serene witness to the unfolding story. Aurora reached out, touching Lucien’s hand lightly. The connection was tentative but real, a fragile promise amid the storm. Together, they might just weather what was coming—because sometimes, the people who’ve hurt us are the ones who help us heal.