Jean opened her eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling above her.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she turned onto her side, only to roll back again in defeat.
Her body felt heavy, her limbs shaky as though they'd been drained of all strength.
"Still night?" she murmured into the stillness, her voice barely audible over the thrum of her own pulse. "Feels like I've slept for years… and yet, I'm so tired."
A voice cut through the silence, smooth and steady, carrying a touch of amusement. "Do you want water?"
Jean's heart leapt in her chest at the unexpected sound. She jerked her head to look around, but the room was cloaked in darkness. "You're still here?" she asked, her voice wavering.
Lucius's reply came without hesitation, firm and unwavering. "Forever."
Her breath caught in her throat at the weight of the word. Before she could respond, she noted the absence of something.
The steady patter of rain against the windows was gone.
"The rain has ceased," she said softly, her ears straining against the silence.
"Yes, and it's morning," Lucius replied, stepping into view. His silhouette was faintly visible now, a tall, commanding presence in the dim light that seeped through the curtains.
Jean frowned as her gaze met his, confusion knitting her brow. "No, it's not."
Lucius tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "It's not what?"
"It's not morning, Lucius," she said, her tone carrying a note of certainty that made him pause.
"I've been up long enough to see the sky change," he countered, folding his arms.
Jean shifted, beginning to sit up despite the weakness in her limbs. Lucius moved instinctively, stepping forward as if to help her, but stopped when she froze.
"I can manage," she said softly, and he raised both hands in surrender, stepping back.
As she gathered the blanket around herself, she glanced at him, her frown deepening. "Then why is the room so dark and stuffy?"
Lucius leaned casually against the edge of the wall, his tone nonchalant. "I shut the windows."
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, what?"
He blinked. "I don't believe there's anything for you to apologize for. It's—"
"Lu-cius," she interrupted sharply, dragging his name out in that way she knew got his attention.
"Yes, pumpkin?" he replied, his lips quirking into a small smile. He always liked when she called his name like that.
"Why are the windows closed?"
"I'm a vampire," he said simply, as though that explained everything.
Jean leaned her head back with an exasperated groan, staring up at the ceiling as though pleading for patience. "Yes, Lord of the Dead, I'm well aware. I'm not stupid."
"Then you should also be aware that vampire and sunlight don't really…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand.
"Oh… oh my god!" Jean gasped, her head snapping toward him. Her green eyes widened as realization dawned. "You can't step out in the sun, can you?"
Lucius pressed his lips together, nodding once. "No, I can't."
She blinked, processing the weight of his answer. "Wait…" Her brows furrowed as she studied his face. "Did you always know? About this?"
Lucius had, on more than one occasion, claimed to have memory loss. Her question hung in the air for a beat before he finally answered.
"Yes," he admitted, his voice quiet but steady.
Jean's mouth fell open, a mix of shock and disbelief spreading across her face. "You lied about losing your memory?"
He shrugged slightly, his tone unapologetic. "I didn't lie—I just didn't tell you everything I know."
Her gaze narrowed, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated. There was a glimmer of something in his expression—vulnerability, perhaps, or regret.
It softened her anger just enough for her to sigh and shake her head.
"You're unbelievable," she muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
Lucius smiled faintly, stepping closer. "I am. But you're still here."
Jean rolled her eyes but couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at her lips. "For now," she said, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her teasing.
For now, she thought. And maybe… forever.
Jean sat in stunned silence, the weight of the moment pressing heavily between her and Lucius.
Finally, she broke it, her voice hesitant. "What are we going to do?"
Lucius's lips curved into a mischievous grin, his sharp fangs glinting faintly in the dim light. "Oh, how I love seeing you so concerned for me," he teased.
The sight of his fangs sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, a mix of fascination and dread.
Her cheeks flushed as the memory of those very fangs sinking into her flesh flashed through her mind. She scowled, suddenly irate.
"Do you have any idea how utterly useless you are right now?" she snapped, her voice sharp.
Lucius regarded her with his typical infuriating calm, his expression unreadable. That look alone was enough to make her blood boil.
"I'm bedridden," she spat, gesturing to herself. "And you're a vampire!"
For once, realization dawned on his face, and he dipped his head slightly. "You're right. I apologize."
Without further ado, he walked over to the jug on the side table and poured a cup of water. Returning to her side, he offered it wordlessly. Jean took it, gulping the water down in record time.
"Thanks," she muttered, but her gratitude froze in her throat as Lucius's palm instinctively reached out, gently patting her hair.
Her eyes widened, her body tensing at the unexpected gesture. Lucius didn't pull away. Instead, his gaze softened, warmth flickering in his deep, dark eyes.
Then, as quickly as the moment began, he turned and walked to his seat, settling in with a practiced grace that made her all the more self-conscious.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice quiet and shy.
"Nothing," he replied evenly, though his tone was serious. "Is there something you want?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. For you to stop looking at me like that."
Lucius pouted, a dramatic gesture that didn't match his otherwise dignified demeanor. "What should I do, then?"