Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQZP66MFRKR1F5MHYSN342

Aurora stood in front of Eva's flat, her breath visible in the cold night air. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the door. The three deadbolts stared back at her, a reminder of the security Eva always insisted on. She took a deep breath and knocked. The sound of footsteps approached, and the door creaked open. Lucien stood there, his heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise. He looked as impeccably dressed as ever, his tailored charcoal suit fitting him like a second skin. The ivory-handled cane was in his hand, a constant companion. "Rory," he said, his voice a mix of surprise and something else she couldn't quite place. "Lucien," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I didn't expect to see you here." He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. "Eva's out for the evening. I'm watching Ptolemy." Aurora stepped into the cramped flat, the familiar scent of old books and curry filling her nostrils. Ptolemy, the tabby cat, rubbed against her leg, purring softly. She bent down to scratch behind his ears, using the moment to gather her thoughts. "How have you been?" Lucien asked, closing the door behind her. The sound of the deadbolts clicking into place echoed in the small space. "Busy," she replied, straightening up. "Work's been... demanding." He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. "I heard about Evan." Her heart skipped a beat. "How?" "I have my ways," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You know that." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's over. I'm done with him." "Good," Lucien said, his voice firm. "You deserve better." She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the concern in his eyes. It was a look she hadn't seen in a long time, not since they had parted ways. The memories came flooding back, unbidden and unwelcome. "Why are you here, Lucien?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking. "I needed to see you." "Why now?" she demanded, her emotions bubbling to the surface. "After all this time, why now?" "Because I couldn't stay away any longer," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "I tried, Rory. I really did. But I can't." She felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "You hurt me, Lucien." "I know," he said, his voice breaking. "And I'm sorry. I never meant to." She shook her head, the pain still fresh despite the time that had passed. "You left without a word. You just disappeared." "I had to," he said, his eyes pleading for her to understand. "It was the only way to keep you safe." "Safe from what?" she asked, her voice rising. "From you?" "From my world," he said, his voice barely audible. "From the dangers that come with being with me." She took a step back, the weight of his words sinking in. "You think I can't handle it?" "No," he said, shaking his head. "I know you can. But I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me." She looked at him, her heart aching. "You don't get to make that decision for me." "I know," he said, his voice filled with regret. "And I'm sorry." They stood there in silence, the weight of their past hanging heavy in the air. Ptolemy meowed, breaking the tension. Aurora bent down to pick him up, cradling the cat in her arms. "I don't know if I can trust you again," she said, her voice soft. "I understand," Lucien said, his eyes filled with pain. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back." She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. All she saw was sincerity and regret. She wanted to believe him, but the wounds were still too fresh. "Why should I give you another chance?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Because I love you," he said, his voice unwavering. "And I can't imagine my life without you." Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had waited so long to hear them, but now that they were finally spoken, she didn't know how to respond. "I need time," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll wait," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "For as long as it takes." She nodded, the weight of their past still heavy on her shoulders. "I should go." "Stay," he said, his voice filled with desperation. "Please." She looked at him, her heart torn. She wanted to stay, to believe that they could make things right. But the pain was still too fresh, the wounds too deep. "I can't," she said, her voice breaking. "Not yet." He nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I understand." She turned to leave, her heart heavy. As she reached the door, she paused, looking back at him. "Goodnight, Lucien," she said, her voice soft. "Goodnight, Rory," he replied, his voice filled with longing. She stepped out into the cold night air, the door closing behind her. The weight of their past still hung heavy on her shoulders, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a glimmer of hope.