LUCIEN's POV
Vincent, the youngest, slid in quietly like a page was being turned. He had a small box with him, and he didn't fuss about norms.
He was quite direct and introverted.
Out of everyone, he took after me more. He arrived with offerings. He set the box on my lap and looked away immediately.
"For you," he murmured, but stood to see my reaction.
I opened it, and it was cufflinks.
It had a black glass underwire; the wire spelled out an L. It was so subtle that you could miss it. Vincent taught himself to make things when he decided words were too loud. It was his own way of expressing himself.
"They're perfect," I said, my fingers tracing the rough surface, feeling my heart warm by his gesture. These three menaces always reminded me occasionally that I was huma
