Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0021GXHW90NYDDD7CPW47

Aurora stood in the cramped kitchen of Eva's flat, the scent of curry wafting through the open window. She stirred a pot of lentils, her mind drifting to the stack of bills on the counter. The soft thud of Ptolemy, Eva's tabby cat, against her leg pulled her back to the moment. She scratched behind the cat's ears, a small smile breaking through her thoughts. The doorbell rang, sharp and unexpected. Aurora wiped her hands on a dish towel, glancing at the clock. Eva was supposed to be at work, and she hadn’t invited anyone over. “Who the hell?” she muttered, crossing the small living room cluttered with books and scrolls. She hesitated, her heart racing. The bell rang again, more insistent this time. “Alright, alright!” She swung the door open, her breath catching in her throat. Lucien Moreau stood on the threshold, his slicked-back platinum hair gleaming under the dim light of the hallway. He wore a tailored charcoal suit that hugged his frame, the ivory-handled cane resting against his side. His heterochromatic eyes—one amber, one black—locked onto hers, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering across his face. “Lucien,” she breathed, the name tasting foreign on her tongue after all this time. “Rory.” His voice was smooth, like silk sliding over stone. She stepped back, instinctively creating space, but he didn’t move. The air thickened with unspoken words, memories flooding back—nights spent laughing, arguments that had cut deep, the way he had looked at her just before everything fell apart. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her. “I need to talk.” He shifted his weight, the cane tapping lightly against the floor. “About what?” She crossed her arms, a defensive posture she hoped would shield her from the memories. “About us.” “Us?” The word hung in the air, heavy and charged. “Can I come in?” He glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to appear behind him. Aurora hesitated, the past swirling around them like a storm. But the look in his eyes—earnest, almost vulnerable—pulled her in. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He walked in, his presence filling the small space. She closed the door, the click echoing in the silence. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around at the chaos of books and scrolls. “Very… you.” “Thanks.” She busied herself with the pot, stirring the lentils again, avoiding his gaze. “What do you want, Lucien?” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “I came to apologize.” “Apologize?” She scoffed, the bitterness creeping into her voice. “You think that’s enough?” “I know it’s not enough.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. “But I need you to understand why I did what I did.” “Why you left?” She turned to face him, her blue eyes flashing. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.” “I was trying to protect you.” His voice dropped, sincerity threading through his words. “You were in danger, Rory. I thought—” “You thought what? That running away would solve everything?” She stepped closer, the heat of the moment igniting old feelings. “You left me to deal with it alone.” “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He pushed off the counter, closing the distance between them. “I thought I was doing the right thing.” “By abandoning me?” Her heart raced, anger and hurt mixing in a volatile cocktail. “I didn’t abandon you.” He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a jolt through her. “I thought I was saving you.” Aurora pulled back, the warmth of his touch lingering like a ghost. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.” “I know.” He dropped his hand, frustration etched on his face. “But I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting caught up in my world. It’s dangerous.” “Dangerous?” She laughed, the sound bitter. “You think I can’t handle danger? I’ve been dealing with my own demons, Lucien.” “Not like mine.” His voice dropped, a shadow crossing his face. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.” “Then show me.” She stepped closer, challenging him. “Show me who you really are.” He hesitated, the tension crackling between them. “You don’t want to see that.” “Try me.” He studied her, the weight of their history hanging in the air. “You think you can just forget everything?” “I’m not trying to forget.” She crossed her arms, her heart pounding. “I’m trying to understand.” “Understanding doesn’t change what happened.” His voice softened, the edge of anger fading. “I hurt you, Rory. I can’t take that back.” “Then what do you want from me?” She searched his eyes, looking for answers. “I want a chance to make it right.” He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I want to show you that I can be better.” “Better?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You think a few words will fix everything?” “No, but it’s a start.” He reached for her again, this time his hand resting gently on her shoulder. “I’m here now. Let me prove it.” Aurora felt the warmth of his hand seep through her shirt, igniting a spark she thought had long extinguished. “You think it’s that easy?” “No.” He lowered his voice, sincerity pouring from him. “But I’m willing to try. For you.” She searched his face, the conflict within her swirling like a tempest. “And what if I can’t trust you?” “Then I’ll earn it.” He stepped back, giving her space, his expression earnest. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” The silence stretched between them, heavy with possibility. Aurora’s heart raced, caught between the past and the present. “Why now?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because I can’t keep running from what I feel.” He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’ve missed you, Rory.” The admission hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. Aurora felt her defenses crumbling, the walls she had built around her heart beginning to crack. “Missed me?” She searched his face for any hint of insincerity, but all she found was longing. “Every day.” He stepped closer again, the space between them charged with unspoken words. “I never stopped thinking about you.” Aurora’s breath caught in her throat. The memories flooded back—laughter, late-night talks, the way he had looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching. “Lucien…” “Please.” He reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. “Just give me a chance.” The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine. She hesitated, the weight of their history pressing down on her. “Just one chance,” he urged, his voice low and earnest. Aurora looked into his eyes, searching for the truth. The past loomed large, but the possibility of something new flickered like a candle in the dark. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice steady. “One chance.” A flicker of hope ignited in his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, Aurora felt the weight of her heart lift.