AI The door creaked open, a thin sliver of light spilling onto the worn parquet floor. Aurora Carter stared at the sudden intrusion, her bright blue eyes flicking over the cluttered room. Books leaned against walls like silent sentinels , scrolls curled at the edges of a wooden desk, and a stack of research notes lay open, half‑written sentences trailing off into the air. The cat, Ptolemy, leapt onto the rug, tail flicking, and settled on Aurora's left wrist, where the crescent scar caught the light.
Lucien Moreau stood in the doorway, charcoal suit crisp against the dimness, his platinum blond hair slicked back to reveal a face that had always seemed to hold a secret. One amber eye stared into the room, the other black, reflecting the same mix of curiosity and caution that had drawn him here years ago. He raised his ivory‑handled cane, the thin blade glinting , and stepped forward, the heel of his boot striking the floor with a muted thud.
"Lucien," Aurora said, her voice a blend of surprise and something deeper, a caution she had never quite managed to hide. She reached for the door handle, fingers brushing against the scar as if it were a map of the path they'd once walked together.
Lucien's lips curved into a half‑smile, the kind that could have been a joke or a warning. He lowered his cane, letting it rest against the doorframe, and his amber eye lingered on Aurora's face, searching for the unspoken words that had hung between them since the night they split.
"Thought you were still at the curry house," he said, voice low, carrying the weight of a past they'd tried to forget. "Thought you were still delivering for Yu‑Fei."
Aurora's hands tightened around the door knob, knuckles whitening. "I'm not delivering," she replied, her tone edged with defiance. "I'm just—"
She gestured toward the desk, where a stack of notes lay open. "Working on something." She didn't finish the sentence, the words trailing off as if the room itself were holding its breath.
Lucien stepped inside, his cane tapping the floor. He glanced around, taking in the chaos of books, scrolls, and research notes that seemed to fill the cramped space. The cat, Ptolemy, flicked its tail, eyes narrowed , as if sensing the tension in the air .
"You always had a way of making the world feel like a library," Lucien said, voice soft, almost reverent. He walked to the desk, fingers brushing over a stack of papers, and his amber eye flicked to Aurora's right wrist, where the scar glowed faintly.
Aurora's breath hitched. She stared at his hand, feeling the weight of the past pressing against her chest. "You never asked about it," she said, her voice barely a whisper . "Never asked why I left."
Lucien's expression shifted, a flicker of something like remorse passing through his amber eye. He placed his hand on the desk, palm flat against the wood, and stared at the stack of notes. "I didn't know," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix everything."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"
Lucien's fingers tightened around the cane, the thin blade glinting in the dim light. He stepped closer, his amber eye searching Aurora's face for a sign of forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city outside.
Aurora's breath quickened . She stared at the scar on her left wrist, the crescent shape a reminder of a childhood accident that had taught her to trust no one. "You never asked why I left," she said, her voice cracking . "You never asked why I stayed."
Lucien's amber eye softened, a hint of something like regret flickering across his face. He placed his cane against the doorframe, his other hand reaching for the scar on Aurora's wrist. "I never asked because I thought I could fix everything," he said, his voice low . "I thought I could fix you."
Aurora's eyes flicked to the cat, Ptolemy, who had now settled on the edge of the desk, tail twitching. "You thought you could fix everything?" she repeated, her tone sharp . "You thought you could fix me?"