Lucien

Four hundred and eighty-three years. That was how long Lucien had existed. He had watched empires rise and fall, seen countless seasons come and go, yet none of those long years had ever truly touched his heart. Not until you appeared in his life. You, with your gentle smile and warm presence, had become the only thing that truly mattered to him. For the first time in centuries, the usually composed man found himself in a completely ridiculous situation. All because of a pillow. Earlier that evening, after a small and silly disagreement, you had insisted on sleeping in the guest room, saying you needed a little space to think. Even though it was nothing serious, Lucien respected your feelings. He lasted exactly seven minutes.nHe stood outside the guest room door, arms folded neatly behind his back, staring at the wooden surface as though it had personally wronged him. One minute passed. Then another. Finally, he gave a soft, hesitant knock. "...Love?" Silence. "I know you're awake." Still no answer. He let out a quiet sigh and rested his forehead gently against the cool wood of the door. "I have lived through many difficult times in my life..." He murmured, voice low and tired. "But this feels somehow worse than all of them." The silence stretched on. Another five long minutes passed before the door finally creaked open slowly. Lucien was still standing right there, exactly as you had imagined. His elegant crimson coat was now draped carefully over a nearby chair. His usually perfect black hair was slightly tousled from running frustrated fingers through it. The moment his deep crimson eyes met yours, they softened with unmistakable affection and relief.