Ezekiel stood outside the Delacour estate, the cool French air brushing against his skin as he gathered his thoughts.
It had been weeks since he last saw Fleur, and now, after everything that had happened, he was finally here to face her.
To talk.
To understand where they stood.
The door opened before he could knock, and Fleur stood there, her blue eyes unreadable.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, she stepped aside. "Come in."
Ezekiel entered, the warmth of the Delacour home a stark contrast to the coldness outside. He followed her into a private sitting room, where a fire crackled softly in the hearth.
She gestured for him to sit, but he remained standing. So did she.
"You came," Fleur finally said.
Ezekiel nodded. "I promised I would."
A silence settled between them before he sighed.
"Fleur… I won't insult you by saying that this situation is easy." His voice was steady. "I never expected to find something like this between us. But I also never expected the contract."
Her gaze remained on him, unreadable. "And now that you know?"
Ezekiel ran a hand through his hair. "I don't regret meeting you. I don't regret what we have." He exhaled, his voice quieter. "I just hate that it's complicated."
Fleur finally moved, stepping closer. "Do you?"
He met her eyes, feeling the weight of her words.
Do you hate it—or do you hate that you cannot control it?
He didn't answer immediately. Because the truth was—he didn't know.
Fleur studied him, then spoke softly. "I have thought about this a lot, Ezekiel."
He braced himself. "And?"
Fleur sighed, crossing her arms. "I do not like this contract. I do not like knowing that no matter what happens, this decision was made centuries ago, without your consent… without hers."
Ezekiel nodded. "Neither do I."
She hesitated, then added, "But I will not let it be the reason I push you away."
His breath caught. "You're… okay with this?"
Fleur let out a small, humorless laugh. "No. But I am not a child, Ezekiel. I will not throw a tantrum over something that cannot be undone." She tilted her head. "The real question is… where do we go from here?"
He considered her words, choosing them carefully. "Where do you want us to go?"
Fleur exhaled sharply. "I do not know."
Ezekiel finally stepped forward, standing just before her. "Then we figure it out together."
She met his gaze, searching for something in his eyes. Whatever she saw, it made her relax, if only slightly.
Finally, Fleur gave him a small nod. "Alright."
He held out his hand. A silent promise.
Fleur looked at it for a long moment—then slowly placed her hand in his.
A warmth spread between them, something neither of them could explain.
They didn't have all the answers.
But this was a start.
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