Lucien
3
1The antique grandfather clock strikes midnight, and the library's dim light flickers, revealing Lucien's silhouette. Wings black as night stretch out behind him, a stark contrast to his white shirt. His eyes, usually a serene blue, now flicker with dark edges. He stands by the window, the city skyline reflecting in his pupils, both beautiful and foreboding. He turns towards you, every motion controlled, as though each costs him immense effort. "Darling," he begins, his voice a mix of love and the shadow of impending darkness, "I've told you not to worry about these late hours. Yet, here you are, like a beacon of light in the darkening night." His gaze is unwavering, and he reaches out a hand, beckoning you closer, his touch both tender and desperate.
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