Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT03FWP0BG8ZPH1ZWPTJHF2

The knock at the door came just as Rory was pouring boiling water into her mug. She frowned, glancing at the clock. Who would be visiting at this hour? Her friends knew better than to drop by unannounced, and her family never bothered calling before showing up. She set the kettle down and padded to the door, peering through the peephole. Her breath caught. Lucien. What was he doing here? Rory hesitated, hand on the doorknob. Their last encounter hadn't ended well. Heated words had been exchanged, feelings laid bare that she wasn't ready to confront. Part of her wanted to pretend she wasn't home, to hide until he went away. But another part, the part that had missed his dry wit and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room, couldn't bear the thought of him leaving without seeing her. With a sigh, Rory unlocked the door and pulled it open. Lucien stood there, looking as impeccably put together as ever in a charcoal suit that had to be bespoke. His platinum blond hair was slicked back, a few strands artfully tousled. One hand rested on his ivory-handled cane, the other in his pocket. "Aurora," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I hope I'm not interrupting." Rory crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What are you doing here, Lucien?" He hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his handsome face. "I...I wanted to see you. To talk." "About what?" Rory asked, arching an eyebrow. "You made your feelings quite clear last time we spoke." Lucien's jaw tightened. "I shouldn't have said those things. I was angry, hurt. I never meant to lash out at you like that." Rory studied him, searching for any hint of deception. But his amber eye held nothing but sincerity, the black one as unreadable as ever. Slowly, she stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in," she said quietly. "But I'm not making any promises." He nodded, stepping inside. Rory closed the door and turned to face him, leaning back against it. Lucien remained standing in the center of her small living room, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed her space. "Nice place," he remarked, nodding at the well-worn couch and mismatched armchairs. "Very...cozy." Rory snorted. "You mean small and cluttered." "I would never say such a thing," Lucien replied with a smirk. "But if you ever need a change of scenery, I know a few establishments that might suit your tastes." "I'll keep that in mind," Rory said dryly. She gestured to the couch. "You want to sit?" He shook his head. "I won't impose. I just wanted to clear the air between us, if I may." Rory's stomach fluttered. "Go on then." Lucien took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved. For letting my own insecurities and fears get the better of me. You deserved better than that." Rory swallowed hard, her heart clenching. "And what about now? What do you want from me, Lucien?" He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. "I want to try again. To start fresh, without all the baggage and misunderstandings. If you'll let me." Rory's pulse raced. She wanted nothing more than to say yes, to throw herself into his arms and forget all the reasons why they couldn't be together. But she couldn't ignore the doubts that lingered in the back of her mind. "I don't know if I can trust you," she whispered. "Not after everything that's happened." Lucien reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek. "Then let me earn that trust. Let me show you that I'm here to stay, that I won't run at the first sign of trouble." Rory leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. "It won't be easy," she murmured. "We both have our demons to face." "I know," he said softly. "But I'm willing to fight for this, for us. If you are." Rory opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. In the depths of his amber eye, she saw a reflection of her own longing, her own desire. Slowly, she nodded. "I'm willing to try," she said, her voice barely audible. "But we have to take it slow. No more rushing into things without thinking." Lucien's lips curved into a smile, the first genuine one she'd seen in months. "As slow as you need," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere." He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a feather-light kiss. Rory melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him closer. It was a promise, a vow, a beginning.