Lucian sat on the edge of his bed, his face softened, yet weary, as he looked at Rose. He wanted nothing more than to believe she had come here with pure intentions, that maybe she had something genuine to say. But the wounds of his past ran deep, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they bled through, coloring every interaction with her.
"Rose," he began, his tone gentle but cautious. "Please, just tell me why you're here. Whatever it is, you don't need to sugarcoat it. Just… be honest with me. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to help you. I always have. But please, let's not pretend you want me here in some special way. I know how you feel."
He gave her a small, tired smile, one that almost hid the pain flickering in his eyes. Deep down, Lucian wasn't prepared for another cycle of hopeful moments followed by letdowns. He had been there before expecting warmth and receiving only coldness in return. He didn't want to put himself through it again.
