Run: 2026-02-19-01KHSZ0C67D4WZ07MD6CJG2GPR

The door creaked open before Aurora had even reached the handle. A gust of cold air slithered through the gap, carrying the faintest scent of damp stone and something sharper—something metallic, like old blood. She froze, her fingers still hovering over the lock. The flat was too quiet. Too still. Then the light flicked on. Lucien stood in the doorway, his cane tapping against the floor with deliberate precision. His amber eye gleamed in the dim glow of the lamp, the other black as a void. He wore his usual charcoal suit, tailored to perfection, but his expression wasn’t quite right. Too sharp. Too *aware*. Aurora exhaled slowly, her breath fogging the air between them. "You shouldn’t be here." "Not supposed to?" His voice was smooth, but there was a edge to it, like he’d been sharpening it for days. She stepped back, her scarred wrist aching where the old wound still lingered. "You know I don’t answer to you." Lucien didn’t move. Just stood there, watching her like she was something fragile he might break. "I don’t need permission." The words hit her like a punch. She should’ve left. Should’ve walked away before she let herself get caught up in this again. But the flat smelled of tea and old books, of the way Eva used to leave her notes tucked behind the coffee pot. And then there was the way his fingers twitched toward the cane, as if he couldn’t decide whether to step forward or not. Aurora crossed her arms. "What do you want?" His gaze flicked to the door, then back to her. "You." The word hung between them, heavy as a lead weight. She should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him to go back to wherever he came from. But the flat felt too small now. Too small without the comfort of the past. Lucien took another step forward. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s pulse hammered in her throat. "I’m not." His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Then why are you?" She opened her mouth, but no words came. Instead, she just stared at him, at the way his hair caught the light, at the way his eyes—one amber, one black—seemed to see right through her. Then he was closer. Too close. His breath brushed her cheek, warm and familiar. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s stomach twisted. "I know." His fingers brushed the deadbolt, testing it. "But you are." The flat was too small. The air too thick. And for the first time in years, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor again, slower this time. "You remember what happened last time." Aurora’s jaw tightened. "I remember." His voice dropped even lower. "I remember, too." She should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him to leave. But the flat felt like a cage now, and she was trapped inside. Lucien’s fingers brushed the lock again, just for a second. Then he stepped back. "I’m not here to hurt you." Aurora’s breath hitched. "Then why are you here?" His gaze locked onto hers, intense and unreadable. "Because I can’t let you go." The words hit her like a physical blow. She should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him to leave. But the flat felt too small now. Too small without the comfort of the past. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor once more, as if deciding. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I’m not." His voice was a whisper now, barely above a murmur. "But you are." She should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him to leave. But the flat felt like a cage now, and she was trapped inside. Lucien’s fingers brushed the deadbolt one last time, just to be sure. Then he turned, his back to her, his cane still tapping against the floor. "I’ll be waiting." The door clicked shut behind him. Aurora stood there, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And for the first time in years, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run. She turned toward the kitchen, her fingers trembling as she reached for the coffee pot. The flat smelled of tea and old books, of the way Eva used to leave her notes tucked behind the coffee pot. And then there was the way Lucien had looked at her, like he could see right through her. She poured herself a cup, her hands shaking. She should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him to leave. But the flat felt like a cage now, and she was trapped inside. Aurora took a sip of the bitter coffee, her eyes never leaving the door. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And for the first time in years, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run. The door handle turned. Aurora’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t move. Lucien stood in the doorway, his cane tapping against the floor. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—one amber, one black—seemed to see right through her. Aurora’s fingers tightened around the coffee mug. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s voice was a low rumble. "I know." Aurora stepped back, her heart pounding. "What do you want?" Lucien took another step forward, his cane tapping against the floor. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s fingers brushed the deadbolt, testing it. "But you are." Aurora’s stomach twisted. "I know." His voice dropped, a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "I’m not." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor once more, slower this time. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "Then why are you here?" Lucien’s gaze flicked to the door, then back to her. "Because I can’t let you go." The words settled between them, heavy and final. Aurora exhaled, her breath fogging the air. "I remember." Lucien’s voice was a low growl. "I remember, too." Aurora turned toward the kitchen, her coffee mug still trembling in her hand. The flat smelled of tea and old books, of the way Eva used to leave her notes tucked behind the coffee pot. Lucien stepped forward, his cane tapping against the floor. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "I’m not." His fingers brushed the deadbolt, just to be sure. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. "What do you want?" Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You." She should’ve walked out. But the flat felt too small now. Too small without the past. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor once more. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I know." He moved closer, his presence filling the room. "I can’t let you go." Aurora’s fingers tightened around the mug, her knuckles white. "Then leave." Lucien’s voice was a low, dangerous purr. "I won’t." Aurora’s eyes burned. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, slow and deliberate. "I know." She turned toward the bed, her mind racing. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And for the first time in years, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run. Lucien’s fingers brushed the deadbolt one last time. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Aurora’s breath caught. Lucien stepped inside, his gaze never leaving hers. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I’m not." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "What do you want?" Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was a low, steady rumble. "I know." Aurora pulled her hand away, her heart pounding. "Leave." Lucien’s fingers brushed the deadbolt again, just for a second. "I won’t." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his, her mind racing. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And the past was too close. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora exhaled sharply. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want to be." Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, the scar on her arm catching his attention. "You always have." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I don’t." Lucien’s voice was low, intense. "You do." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I don’t." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You always have." Aurora’s pulse roared in her ears. "I don’t." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. "You do." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, then pulled back. "You." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze was intense, his voice a low rumble. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "Leave." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the air. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And the past was too close. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "I’m not." His fingers brushed the deadbolt, just to test. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze dropped to her lips again. "You do." Aurora’s heart raced. "I don’t." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. "You always have." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I don’t." Lucien’s voice was a low rumble. "I know." Aurora pulled away, her fingers curling into fists. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor. "I know." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, lingering on the scar. "You." Aurora’s breath caught. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s gaze flicked to the door, then back to him. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, then pulled back. "You." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s gaze was intense, his voice low. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he stepped forward, his fingers brushing her cheek. "You." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I don’t." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her fingers trembling. The flat was too small. Too quiet. And the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze locked onto hers. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "You do." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t." Lucien’s voice was a low rumble. "I know." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his, her fingers curling into fists. "Leave." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving his. The past was too close. The flat too small. And the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips once more. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s gaze was intense, his voice a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. "You." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was low, steady. "I know." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, lingering just a second too long. "You." Aurora’s breath caught. The flat was too small. The air too thick. And the past was too close. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I’m not." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the air. The past was too close. The flat too small. And the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, lingering on the scar. "You always have." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I don’t." Lucien’s gaze dropped to her lips. "I know." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not supposed to be here." The door handle turned. Aurora’s breath caught. Lucien stood in the doorway, his cane tapping against the floor. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—one amber, one black—seemed to see right through her. Aurora’s fingers tightened around the coffee mug. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s voice was a low rumble. "I know." Aurora stepped toward the door, her heart pounding. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed the deadbolt, testing it. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze locked onto her lips. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "Leave." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, then he stepped back. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the tension between them was too thick to ignore. Lucien’s voice dropped to a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his. "I’m not." His fingers brushed the deadbolt one last time. The lock clicked. The door swung shut. Aurora’s breath hitched, her pulse racing. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the attraction between them was undeniable. She turned toward the kitchen, her coffee mug still trembling. The flat smelled of tea and old books, of the way Eva used to leave notes tucked behind the coffee pot. Lucien’s voice echoed from the other room, low and intense. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s gaze flicked toward the door, then back to the mug. "I’m not." He stepped forward again, his cane tapping against the floor. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, lingering on the scar. "You do." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. "Leave." Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice steady. "I won’t." Aurora’s gaze shifted to the door, the deadbolt still locked. The past was too close, and the room felt like it was suffocating. Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering on her wrist. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "Then why are you here?" Lucien’s voice was low, intense. "Because I can’t let you go." Aurora’s breath caught, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist—another mark from the past. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s fingers brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "I know." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his, the room too quiet, the air too charged. "What do you want?" Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You." Aurora exhaled, her breath fogging the air. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the past was too close. Lucien stepped closer, his fingers brushing her jaw. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers curled around the mug. "I’m not." His gaze never left hers. "But you are." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice dropped to a low rumble. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. The past was too close. The flat too small. And the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, lingering. "You." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his, the door still locked behind them. The past was too close, and the attraction was too fierce. She exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving his. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers brushing her cheek. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze dropped to her lips again. "I know." Aurora’s heart raced, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. The past was too close, and the room felt like it was closing in. Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I’m not." His voice was low, intense. "But you are." Aurora exhaled, her gaze locked onto his. The flat was too small, the air too thick, and the past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, lingering. "You." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I’m not supposed to be here." The door handle turned. The lock clicked. Aurora’s breath caught. Lucien stood in the doorway, his cane tapping against the floor. His gaze was intense, one eye amber, the other black. Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed hers, lingering. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. The past was too close. The flat too small. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his gaze never leaving hers. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze locked onto his. "I’m not." His voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s heart pounded. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the past was too close. Lucien’s voice dropped to a low rumble. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. "I’m not." His fingers brushed hers, lingering. "But you are." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his gaze intense. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "Leave." Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close, the room felt suffocating. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His fingers brushed her lips. "You." Aurora’s heart pounded. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the past was too close. Aurora stepped back, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. The past was too close, the air too thick. Lucien’s voice was low, intense. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora exhaled sharply. "I’m not." Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his eyes. The flat was too small, the past too close. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering on her wrist. "You." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I don’t want this." The door handle turned again. The lock clicked open. Aurora’s eyes widened. Lucien stepped inside, his cane tapping against the floor, his gaze fixed on her. Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "You shouldn’t be here." Lucien’s voice was a low rumble. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. "What do you want?" Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, lingering on the scar. "You." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close, the tension too heavy. Lucien stepped closer, his fingers brushing her jaw. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed hers. "I know." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "Leave." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his gaze intense. "I won’t." Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. "Why?" Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "Because I can’t." Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close, the flat too small, and the past was too close. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I’m not." His fingers brushed her lips. "You." Aurora’s heart pounded. The past was too close. Aurora turned toward the door, her fingers trembling. The flat smelled of tea and old books, of the past. Lucien’s voice echoed from the doorway. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "I’m not." Lucien stepped forward, his cane tapping against the floor. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I know." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his eyes. The past was too close. The flat was too small. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I’m not." His fingers brushed her lips. "You." Aurora exhaled, her breath fogging the air. The past was too close, the room too small. Aurora opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, she just stared at him, at the way his fingers lingered on her wrist, at the way his gaze seemed to see right through her. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers brushing her jaw. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. The past was too close. The flat was too small. Aurora closed her eyes, her fingers trembling. The past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her lips, lingering just a second too long. "You." Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close. The flat was too small. Aurora opened her eyes, her gaze locked onto his. The past was too close. The past was too close. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers curled around the coffee mug, her breath coming fast. The past was too close. Aurora took a step back, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "I’m not." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers. "I won’t let you." Aurora’s breath hitched. The past was too close, the room too small. Aurora turned toward the kitchen, her fingers trembling. The flat smelled of tea and Eva’s old books. Lucien’s voice echoed from the doorway. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s gaze flicked to the door, then back to the mug. "I’m not." Lucien stepped inside, his cane tapping against the floor. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, lingering on the scar. "You do." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was low, intense. "I know." Aurora’s heart raced. The past was too close, and the flat was too small. Aurora stepped toward the door, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "Leave." Lucien’s fingers brushed hers. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze locked onto his eyes. The past was too close. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering on her wrist. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath caught. "I’m not." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers. "I won’t let you." Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. The past was too close. Aurora reached for the door handle. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist, stopping her. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s heart pounded. The past was too close. Aurora turned, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The flat was too small, the past too close. Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I’m not." His fingers brushed her lips. "You." Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close. The past was too close. Aurora stepped back, her gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I won’t let you." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his eyes. The flat was too small. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I’m not." His voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s heart raced. The past was too close. Aurora exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. "Leave." Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers. "I won’t." Aurora’s gaze shifted to the door, the lock still secure. The past was too close. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s eyes burned. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I know." Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. The flat was too small, the past too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled as she reached for the mug. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering. "I know." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was low. "You do." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. The past was too close. Aurora took a step back. "Leave." Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "I won’t." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. The past was too close. Aurora turned toward the door, her fingers trembling. The flat smelled of tea and old books. Lucien’s voice echoed from the doorway. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s gaze locked onto the handle. "I’m not." Lucien stepped inside, his cane tapping against the floor. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "I know." Aurora’s heart raced. The past was too close, the flat too small. Aurora reached for the door handle. Lucien’s fingers brushed hers. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath caught. "I’m not." His gaze dropped to her lips. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was low. "I won’t let you." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. The past was too close. Aurora stopped moving. Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His gaze locked onto hers. "But you are." Aurora’s heart pounded. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers curled around the mug. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. The past was too close. The flat was too small. Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora exhaled, her fingers trembling. "I’m not." His fingers brushed her wrist. "But you are." Aurora’s breath came fast. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze locked onto hers, his voice steady. "I won’t let you go." Aurora’s eyes burned. The past was too close. Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. The flat was too small. Aurora’s fingers trembled as she placed the mug on the counter. "Leave." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor. "I won’t." Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close. Aurora turned toward the door. The lock clicked. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his eyes. "I’m not." His voice was a whisper. "But you are." Aurora’s heart pounded. The past was too close. The flat was too small. Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze dropped to her lips. "I know." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close. Aurora reached for the door handle. Lucien’s fingers brushed hers. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His voice was low. "But you are." Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s cane tapped against the floor, his fingers lingering on her wrist. "I won’t let you." Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. The past was too close. Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist, her breath coming fast. The past was too close. Aurora stepped back, her fingers curling around the mug. "I’m not supposed to be here." Lucien’s voice was a whisper. "I know." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s fingers brushed her jaw. "You do." Aurora’s heart raced. The past was too close. Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. The flat was too small, the past too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled as she turned toward the door. The lock clicked. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s breath hitched. "I’m not." His voice was low. "But you are." Aurora’s gaze locked onto his eyes. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled. "I don’t want this." Lucien’s gaze dropped to her lips. "I won’t let you." Aurora’s eyes locked onto the scar on his wrist. The past was too close, the flat too small. Aurora’s gaze locked onto his lips. The past was too close. Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled as she reached for the mug. The past was too close. Aurora’s gaze locked onto Lucien’s lips. The past was too close. Aurora’s breath hitched. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled, her gaze fixed on the scar on his wrist. The past was too close. Aurora turned toward the door, her breath coming fast. Lucien’s fingers brushed her wrist. "You’re not supposed to be here." Aurora’s eyes locked onto his eyes. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers curled into fists. "I’m not." His voice was low. "But you are." Aurora exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving him. The past was too close. Aurora’s gaze locked onto the scar on his wrist. The past was too small. Aurora’s breath caught. The past was too close. Aurora’s fingers trembled as she opened the door. The lock clicked shut behind her.