Returning to lucian home
Olivia sat in the quiet, staring blankly at the two cold cups of coffee on the table in front of her, their surfaces untouched, their warmth long gone. She had made them early that morning one for herself, one for Lucian. She had hoped, as she'd done the past three days, that he might sit with her, just for a few moments. But, like the others, this morning had slipped through her fingers, a morning where Lucian had walked right past her, leaving her staring at the cup he hadn't touched.
