Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT00WBR9HADXXZ703NDEWSN

Aurora stood in the cramped kitchen of Eva's flat, the scent of curry wafting through the air from the restaurant below. She stirred a pot of lentils, her mind wandering to the stack of books piled high on the table. The tabby cat, Ptolemy, lounged lazily on the windowsill, soaking up the afternoon sun. A sudden knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. She wiped her hands on a dish towel, glancing at the clock. Eva was supposed to be at work, and no one else ever visited. Another knock, more insistent this time. Rory hesitated, her heart racing. She approached the door, her pulse quickening with each step. She peered through the peephole, her breath catching in her throat. Lucien Moreau stood on the other side, his slicked-back platinum hair gleaming in the light. He wore a tailored charcoal suit that hugged his frame perfectly, an ivory-handled cane resting against his side. She opened the door, her heart pounding. “Lucien,” she breathed, surprise mingling with a rush of emotions. “Rory,” he replied, his voice smooth, yet edged with something unspoken. The air thickened between them, memories flooding back—late-night conversations, stolen glances, the way he had made her laugh even when the world felt heavy. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “I needed to see you.” He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. Rory crossed her arms, a defensive posture. “You could have called.” “I thought it best to come in person.” He glanced around the flat, his gaze lingering on the clutter of books and scrolls. “You’ve made quite the nest for yourself.” “Yeah, well, it’s not a palace,” she shot back, her tone sharper than she intended. Lucien’s lips quirked into a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I see you’re still as charming as ever.” “Charming? Is that what you call it?” She stepped back, creating distance. “You didn’t seem to think so last time we spoke.” He shifted, the cane tapping lightly against the floor. “I came to apologize.” “Apologize?” She scoffed, disbelief coloring her voice. “You think that’s enough?” “I know it’s not enough.” His expression turned serious, the playful banter fading. “But I need you to understand—” “Understand what? That you just disappeared? That you left me to pick up the pieces?” “I had my reasons.” “Right, your reasons.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You always had your reasons.” Lucien stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Rory. I thought it was for the best.” “For who? You or me?” “Both.” “Is that what you tell yourself?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. “I didn’t want to drag you into my world. It’s dangerous.” “Dangerous?” She laughed, a bitter sound. “You think I can’t handle danger? I’ve been living in it since you left.” “Rory—” “Don’t.” She held up a hand, cutting him off. “You don’t get to come back and act like you care. Not after everything.” “I do care.” “Then why did you leave?” Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Lucien’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of his choices hanging in the air. “Because I thought it would keep you safe,” he finally said, his voice low. “Safe?” She shook her head, disbelief etched on her features. “You think running away keeps me safe? You think I wanted to be left alone?” “I thought you’d be better off without me.” “Better off?” She stepped forward, her voice rising. “You don’t get to decide that for me! You don’t know what I wanted!” “I know you wanted a normal life.” “Normal?” She laughed again, the sound sharp. “You think I wanted normal? I wanted you, Lucien. I wanted us.” His eyes flickered with something—regret, longing, maybe even hope. “I wanted that too.” “Then why did you walk away?” “Because I was scared.” “Scared of what?” “Of losing you.” Rory’s breath caught in her throat. The vulnerability in his voice pierced through her anger, leaving her momentarily speechless. “Losing me?” she echoed, her voice softer now. “Yes.” He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. “I didn’t know how to protect you from my world. I thought it would be easier to let you go.” “Easier for you, maybe.” “Rory, please.” He reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm. “I’m here now. I want to make things right.” She pulled back, her heart racing. “You think it’s that simple? You can just waltz back in and fix everything?” “No, I don’t think it’s simple. But I’m willing to try.” “Try?” She shook her head, frustration bubbling up again. “You think trying is enough?” “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just want a chance to explain.” “Explain what? That you were too scared to face the truth?” “Explain that I was a fool.” Rory’s heart softened at his admission, but she fought against it. “A fool who left me in the dark.” “I know.” He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. “I can’t change the past, but I want to be here now. With you.” “Why now?” “Because I realized I can’t run from my feelings. Not anymore.” “Feelings?” “Yes.” He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I still care about you, Rory. More than I should.” The air crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging between them. Rory’s heart raced, torn between anger and the flicker of hope igniting within her. “Lucien…” “Just give me a chance.” She searched his eyes, the sincerity there almost disarming. “And what if I say no?” “Then I’ll respect your choice.” Rory hesitated, the weight of his gaze anchoring her. “You really think you can just walk back into my life?” “I’m willing to try.” “Try.” She repeated the word, testing it on her tongue. “Yes.” “Fine.” She crossed her arms, her heart pounding. “But don’t think this means I trust you.” “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” The tension shifted, a fragile truce forming in the space between them. “Now what?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Now we talk.” “Talk?” “Yes.” “About what?” “About us.” Rory’s breath caught again, the weight of his words settling in. “Us?” “Yes.” “Okay.” “Okay.” And with that, the door to the past creaked open, leaving them standing on the threshold, uncertain yet hopeful.