"What are you thinking about?" Lucien asked, nibbling on my earlobe. He seemed to have a particular fondness for my earlobes, sending shivers down my spine every time he touched them.
I tore myself away from my thoughts, not wanting to answer him.
Lucien loved to ask me all sorts of questions as if my answers were the only things that could satisfy him.
It was easy to tell when he was in a good mood, especially from his eyes. Lucien's eyes were like a thick layer of ice that never melted, hiding all his emotions and thoughts behind them.
He didn't like to be probed, either. I remembered that night when I tentatively tried to get an answer out of him. He had become withdrawn as if he wanted to hide in the darkness again, wary of anyone trying to see through him.
What was I thinking
