Happy Together

Painted Black

In the kitchen, Lucius was surprisingly at ease. He moved through the space as if he had been living there all his life, pulling out pans and ingredients with a quiet confidence. Victoria leaned against the doorway, watching him cautiously. The scene was almost domestic, which made it all the more surreal.

“What are you in the mood for?” Lucius asked without looking at her, cracking a few eggs into a bowl.

“Um... anything’s fine,” Victoria replied, her voice tentative.

Lucius glanced over his shoulder, smirking slightly. “You’re easy to please. That’s good to know.”

Victoria forced a smile, stepping further into the kitchen. “You cook?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Lucius shrugged, whisking the eggs with practiced ease. “I have my moments.”

She chuckled nervously, perching on one of the stools by the counter. “I’ve noticed.”

There was a brief silence as Lucius focused on the task at hand, the sound of the whisk and the sizzle of butter in the pan filling the room. Victoria’s mind raced with questions, but she didn’t know how to ask them. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Why are you being... like this?” she asked carefully.

Lucius looked up, his expression unreadable. “Like what?”

“Like... normal,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Kind, even.”

He paused, setting the bowl down and turning to face her. “Because I’m not just the monster you think I am,” he said simply, his tone even. “You see the worst of me because that’s what I’m here for—to protect Alistair when he can’t handle things. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own... moments.”

Victoria frowned, trying to piece together his words. “Protect him from what?”

Lucius tilted his head, studying her. “From the things he’s too afraid to face. The parts of the world that would eat him alive if I wasn’t here.” His gaze darkened slightly. “People like your ex, for example.”

Victoria stiffened, the mention of her ex sending a wave of discomfort through her. “He’s not a part of my life anymore,” she said firmly.

Lucius smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Doesn’t mean he’s not in your shadow. People like that leave marks. And trust me, I know how to deal with men like him.”

“Stop,” Victoria said quickly, her voice sharper than she intended. “I don’t want to talk about him. And I don’t want you... handling it.”

Lucius’s smirk faded, and he nodded. “Fair enough, we don’t have to talk about it, but I will do what I see fit and don’t even pretend you have never thought about doing something to him. To exact the revenge you deserve” His words hit her hard like a slap in the face. “I mean yes,” she stammered. “But I couldn’t. “ Lucius interjected “Couldn’t what hurt a fly? Ever think of yourself as a killer? You know the couple that slays together stays together.” An sly but sinister grin spread across his face.

The tension hung heavy in the air, but Lucius turned back to the stove, breaking the silence by pouring the eggs into the pan. “You’re stronger than you think, Victoria,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter.

She blinked, surprised by the shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been through hell,” Lucius said simply, his back still to her. “And yet, here you are, sitting in this kitchen, cracking jokes and trying to figure me out. Most people wouldn’t bother. Most people would’ve run screaming by now or be dead.”

Victoria bit her lip, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Maybe I should’ve,” she admitted.

Lucius turned, his eyes meeting hers. “But you didn’t. That says something.”

His words left her unsettled, yet oddly reassured. There was something genuine in the way he spoke, as if he truly admired her resilience. It was a strange, unexpected moment of connection, and Victoria wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Lucius said, breaking the tension as he plated the eggs and set them on the counter in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said softly, picking up her fork but hesitating before taking a bite.

Lucius leaned against the counter, watching her with an unreadable expression. “You don’t have to trust me,” he said finally. “But you should know, as long as I’m around, no one’s going to hurt you again.”

Victoria looked up at him, her chest tightening. She didn’t know if that promise was a comfort or a warning, but she nodded anyway. “Okay,” she said quietly.

They ate in silence, the unspoken tension between them lingering but unchallenged. For now, it was enough.

After they finished breakfast, the quiet tension between them remained unspoken but undeniable. Victoria took her plate to the sink, rinsing it absentmindedly as her thoughts churned. Lucius—still Alistair in appearance but undeniably himself in manner—stood by the counter, sipping his coffee, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, her voice breaking the silence as she wiped her hands on a towel.

“You’re welcome,” Lucius replied, his tone lighter now, though his eyes still carried that unreadable weight.

Victoria moved toward her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “I should get going. I’m opening the shop today,” she said, trying to sound casual.

Lucius nodded, setting his empty mug down. “Right. Work.” He paused, as if considering something, then added, “You’ll be safe there, won’t you?”

She froze for a moment before turning to face him. “Of course I will,” she said, her tone firm. “It’s just the mall, Lucius. Nothing’s going to happen.”

His lips twitched in a faint smirk, but there was something dark beneath it. “Just making sure,” he said. “After last night, I’m not taking chances.”

Victoria swallowed, unsure how to respond. She didn’t want to acknowledge the mugging or the way Lucius had handled it—too ruthless, too calculated. Yet, she couldn’t deny the gratitude she felt for his intervention.

“I’ll be fine,” she said again, her voice softer this time. “Thank you... for last night.”

Lucius’s smirk faded into something more genuine, almost affectionate. “You don’t need to thank me for that. It’s what I’m here for.”

Victoria nodded, giving him a small smile before stepping toward the door. “I’ll see you later, okay? Tell Alistair I said hi... when he’s back.”

Lucius’s expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. “Sure. Take care, Victoria.”

She hesitated briefly before stepping out, the weight of his gaze lingering on her as she closed the door behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Lucius exhaled deeply, his smirk returning but with a sharper edge this time. He walked to the sink, rinsing his own plate and setting it aside before heading to the bedroom to get dressed.

Victoria made her way to work, her mind racing with everything that had happened. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was brewing, something just out of her reach. But she forced herself to focus on the day ahead, knowing she couldn’t afford to let her thoughts spiral.

Meanwhile, Lucius had a different plan. Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt, he slipped on his leather boots and grabbed his favorite hoodie. Standing in front of the mirror, he looked himself over, adjusting his stance and rolling his shoulders as if settling into the body he shared.

“You’re too soft,” he muttered to Alistair’s reflection, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “She deserves better than that bastard walking free.”

He grabbed the keys and stepped out into the morning sun, his purpose clear. Victoria’s ex had a lot to answer for, and Lucius wasn’t the type to forgive—or forget.

As he drove toward Mililani, his thoughts simmered with dark intent. This wasn’t just about revenge; it was about justice. About ensuring that Victoria never had to feel powerless again.

Lucius’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching. He’d deal with the man who had hurt her, and he’d do it in a way that would ensure no one would ever dare touch her again.

“Don’t worry, Victoria,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve got this.”

The haunting tones of Firewater’s Paint It Black cover reverberated through the car, a fitting soundtrack to the storm raging within.