Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0A2GE6FMFVWPK712KMPXE

Aurora's heart pounded in her chest as she climbed the narrow staircase to Eva's flat, her footsteps muffled by the worn carpet. The night had turned chilly, and she pulled her worn leather jacket tighter around herself, her breath creating small clouds in the air. The streets were quiet, the usual hustle of Brick Lane subdued by the late hour. Reaching the landing, Aurora hesitated in front of the door. She didn't like showing up unannounced, but Eva had always made it clear her home was a safe space for Aurora, anytime. With a sigh, she raised her hand and knocked twice, the sound echoing in the hallway. Moments later, the door opened a fraction, the chain still in place. A pair of heterochromatic eyes, one amber, one black, met hers. "Rory," Lucien said, surprise flickering across his sharp features before he composed himself. "What are you doing here?" Despite the initial shock, Aurora felt a strange familiarity at the sight of him, a mix of comfort and anxiety. It had been months since she last saw him, their parting left with so many words hanging unspoken. "I could ask you the same, Luc," she replied, attempting to keep her voice steady, but the slight tremor betrayed her. "Is Eva here?" Lucien unhooked the chain and opened the door wider, stepping back to let her in. "No, she's not. She's in Brighton for a conference. She asked me to house-sit." Aurora walked past him into the cramped flat, resisting the urge to hug herself for warmth as she scanned the familiar chaos of books and notes. Ptolemy, the tabby cat, meowed from his perch on the windowsill, eyeing her lazily. "So, house-sitting, huh?" Aurora turned to face Lucien, who had closed the door and was now leaning casually against it, his ivory-handled cane propped beside him. "Does that include answering her door at midnight?" His lips curled into a half-smile. "I would assume so. Besides, it's not every day I get a midnight visitor as intriguing as you." She scoffed, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened at his words. "Always the charmer." His smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "Why are you here, Aurora? Really." Aurora exhaled slowly, the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. "I had a rough night. Just needed to be somewhere safe." Lucien's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. "You know Eva's place is always safe for you. But you also know you don't have to do this alone." She looked away, unsure how to navigate the complex terrain of their past. They had once been close, closer than she allowed herself to think now. But time and circumstances had driven a wedge between them. Still, seeing him now, she couldn't deny the pull she felt, the unresolved tension. "I appreciate that, Luc. I do," she said, her voice quieter. "But it's hard to forget how things ended." He sighed and ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, the platinum strands catching the low light. "It wasn't an ending, Rory. More like... a pause. Life got complicated, for both of us." "And we're just supposed to pick up where we left off?" Aurora crossed her arms, her eyes searching his face. "Pretend like none of that pain existed?" "No," he replied firmly, closing the distance between them until he was standing mere inches away. "We acknowledge it, and we try to understand it. Together." Aurora felt the undeniable pull of his presence, the warmth from his body, and the familiar scent of his cologne. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, but the past was a barrier still too solid to break easily. "You hurt me, Luc." Her voice was barely a whisper. "And you hurt me," he replied, gently but with an edge of pain. "But that doesn't mean we should keep hurting each other by staying apart." Ptolemy jumped down from the windowsill, weaving between their legs before trotting off to his food bowl. The cat's presence broke the intensity of the moment, allowing Aurora to take a small step back, to breathe. "Maybe you’re right," she admitted. "Maybe avoiding each other isn't the solution." Lucien watched her carefully, his heterochromatic eyes filled with a mix of hope and caution. "Then how about we start with just being here? In this moment. No expectations, no pressure. Just us." She hesitated, then nodded, a small, tentative smile playing at her lips. "Okay. Just us." He extended his hand, and after a moment's pause, she took it. His fingers were warm and steady, grounding her. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, leading her to the cluttered kitchen area. "Tea sounds good," she replied, feeling the tension ease slightly. Lucien busied himself with the kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. Aurora leaned against the counter, watching him with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. "You've gotten better at this domestic stuff," she noted. He chuckled softly. "Eva's been a good teacher. She insists on proper tea etiquette." As they waited for the kettle to boil, an unusual sense of calm settled between them. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start. And for Aurora, that was enough for now. Minutes later, they sat at the small, cluttered kitchen table, steaming mugs of tea in front of them. Aurora wrapped her hands around her cup, savoring the warmth that spread through her fingers. "Tell me about Brighton," she said, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. "What's Eva's conference about?" Lucien took a sip of his tea, considering her question. "It's a symposium on ancient texts. She's presenting some of her latest research on pre-Roman Celtic scripts. Fascinating stuff, really." Aurora smiled, picturing their mutual friend passionately discussing her work. "Sounds like Eva." Silence fell between them again, but this time it felt less heavy, more comfortable. They were making an effort, and that was something. "Aurora," Lucien began softly, his eyes meeting hers across the table. "I know it's going to take time. But I'm willing to wait. You mean too much to me to let the past define our future." Her breath hitched slightly, the sincerity in his words stirring emotions she had kept buried for months. "I don't know what the future holds, Luc. But maybe... we can figure it out together." His smile was warm, tender even. "I would like that very much." They sat in silence for a long time after that, sipping their tea and sharing glances that spoke volumes. The hurt and the history between them hadn't disappeared, but in the small flat on Brick Lane, surrounded by the remnants of Eva's research and the occasional meow from Ptolemy, they found the beginnings of a fragile, hopeful truce. And for now, that was enough.