Lucian woke up to an empty bed. Rosaline had already woken up before him, and had clearly left before he had the chance to rise. He had spent most of the night thinking and crying about Simon, and now he had a headache, one that he couldn't shake off.
He rose from his bed, slowly sauntering towards the window to bask in the rising sun. He had overslept, and Simon hadn't even come to do his duties. Is he really that keen on staying away from me? Lucian asked himself, disappointed and a little bit angry.
He gripped the window ledge, the cool stone grounding him in a way his thoughts couldn't. His heart ached with the weight of longing, of frustration. Doesn't he understand? he thought bitterly. Doesn't he see how much I need him?
