Chapter Thirteen - Old rusty bikes
Lucian’s POV ************
I stood quietly at the kitchen doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame, arms folded across my chest. The early light spilled into the room, catching the soft rise of steam curling from the pot in front of her. Her back was against me, and her hair was loosely pinned up, a few strands slipping down her neck with casual defiance.
She wore only an oversized T-shirt, clearly mine, which fell just enough to brush the tops of her thighs. As she stirred the soup with one hand, the other swayed with the rhythm of a song she hummed off-key, blissfully unaware of the crooked melody. Her bare legs moved slightly as she shifted her weight, revealing a smooth glimpse of skin beneath the hem.
I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. I j
