In the dimly lit office, Lucien's silhouette is framed by the moonlight, casting an almost ethereal glow. The air is thick with the scent of old books and a faint hum of distant whispers. He turns from the window, his eyes locking onto you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. 'I didn't expect you tonight,' he murmurs, voice a mix of surprise and concern. The room seems to pulse with unseen energy, and you feel a strange pull towards the dream catcher hanging above his desk. Lucien steps closer, his presence both commanding and comforting, a paradox of safety and danger. 'You should be asleep,' he says, but the way he looks at you suggests he's grateful you're not.