Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQYXHF40H3S0REJYNHDBGT

The flat on Brick Lane was quiet, save for the occasional muffled chatter from the curry house below. Rory sat cross-legged on the floor, poring over Eva's scattered notes. She reached for her wine glass, only to find it empty. With a sigh, she unfolded her long limbs and rose to her feet. A sharp rap at the door startled her. Three deadbolts and still, her heart raced at every unexpected sound. Setting the glass down, she crossed the room in a few quick strides and pressed her eye to the peephole. Lucien Moreau stood on the other side, his heterochromatic eyes patient but intent, one amber and one black, beneath slicked-back platinum blond hair. He leaned elegantly on his ivory-handled cane, his tall frame draped in a tailored charcoal suit. Rory swore under her breath, the sound swallowed by the tabby cat, Ptolemy, as he wound around her ankles. She unlatched each bolt with shaking fingers, hesitating on the last one. After a deep breath, she opened the door. Lucien took in her rumpled state, shadows beneath her bright blue eyes. "Aurora," he greeted. "Lucien," she replied, voice flat, her accent still laced with Welsh despite her time in London. "I wasn't aware you frequented Brick Lane these days." She hugged her arms around her middle. "Eva's out of town. She needed someone to feed the cat." "I see." He tipped his head, contemplating. "May I come in?" Rory considered him for a long moment before stepping aside. With a murmur of thanks, Lucien entered, polished shoes treading lightly on the floorboards. He took a seat on the threadbare sofa, resting the cane across his knees. Rory closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar. She turned, hands buried in the back pockets of her jeans. "What do you want, Lucien?" Exhaustion and something heavier coloured her tone. "I came to see how you were," he said simply. "It's been a while." "Not long enough," she muttered, moving into the tiny kitchenette to refill her glass. She didn't bother offering him one. Leaning against the counter, she took a deep swallow before speaking. "I'm peachy. Never better. Anything else?" He studied her, the tilt of his head sympathetic. "Aurora—" "Don't." She held up a hand. "Don't 'Aurora' me. If you came here to check on me, you've done it. You can go now." "Is that really what you want?" he asked softly. "What I want," she echoed with a bitter laugh. "Right. That's bloody hilarious coming from you." "Perhaps you should elaborate," he said coolly, the warmth bleeding from his eyes. "You seem to have a bone to pick with me. Pick away." Rory glared at him across the narrow room, her thumb pressed to the pulse jumping in her wrist, right over the small crescent-shaped scar. "You ghosted me," she said finally, her voice small, broken. "One minute we were... whatever we were, and the next, you were gone. No call. No text. Nothing." Lucien looked down, adjusting his grip on the cane. "I see." "No, you really don't," she said harshly, slamming her glass on the counter. "You broke me, Lucien! And then you stroll back in here like nothing happened?" "No," he said sharply, his gaze snapping back to hers. "I hoped we could talk about it." "And that makes it okay?" She let out an ugly laugh. "You disappear, and when you turn up again, I'm supposed to just open my arms and welcome you back?" He stood abruptly, closing the distance between them in two quick strides. Rory backed up until the counter dug into her spine, the heat of him inches away. "No," he said again, his voice low and rough, amber and black eyes burning. "I made a mistake. I'm not proud of it, and I won't make excuses. But I'm here now." "Don't do this," she whispered, hating the tears that threatened to spill. "Don't come in here and talk to me like that. Like you can just sweep it under the rug." "And what do you suggest, Aurora?" The space between them narrowed to a breath. "Do you want me to grovel? To beg? I will, if it's what you need." "I need you to leave," she choked out. "Please, just go." For a moment, Lucien didn't move. Then he reached up slowly, catching a tear on the pad of his thumb. He looked at it for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I wish things were different," he murmured. "Perhaps in another life, I could have been the man you deserved. But in this one, all I can do is keep you safe." Rory's breath hitched. His thumb drifted down, tracing the line of her jaw before he stepped back, an aching slowness. "Take care of yourself, Aurora Carter," he said quietly, picking up his cane. He paused at the door, considering, then shook his head and left. The door clicked shut behind him. Rory stood frozen, silent tears streaming down her face until Ptolemy's meow broke through the static. She sank to her knees, burying her face in his soft fur. "Damn him," she whispered, the words muffled. Ptolemy just purred, oblivious to her heart as it splintered all over again.