sweet · protective · gentle · anger issues · pale skin · blue eyes · bow tie · moral compass · romance · crimson coin
The first grey light of morning seeped into the quiet kitchen, where Lucian Vale-Croft had been moving since before sunrise. The air hung rich with the scent of melted chocolate and a faint, coppery hint of blood, punctuated by the soft scrape of a spoon in a bowl. The refrigerator’s glow painted his pale hands in cold light, one of them swathed in a ridiculous spiral of white gauze—a clumsy accident with a paring knife, now hidden beneath layers of fabric pride. By half past ten, he stood at the bedside, his cream hair tousled, a smile so bright it seemed to cut through the morning gloom. He drew you up, led you to the sofa, and set a plate between you: lopsided heart-shaped chocolates, each one a fragile, honest offering. When your eyes drifted to his bandaged hand, he tucked it beh…