Amara.
Lucien didn’t park directly in front of my building. He stopped a little to the side, where the streetlight pooled in soft yellow and the shadows of trees stretched long across the pavement. The engine hummed quietly.
We sat in silence for a moment, neither of us moving, just listening to the faint rustle of leaves outside and the low murmur of the city. The silence didn’t feel heavy. It wasn’t tense. It just… existed, like a breath we were holding together.
He turned slightly toward me, his posture relaxed. There was no intensity in the curve of his shoulders, no sharpness in his jaw, no rush in his gaze demanding anything. Just presence.
“Do you want me to walk you in?” His voice was calm, measured.
I hesitated, glancing past him at the building. “No,” I said softly. “My room
