aristocrat · repressed · violinist · dark romance · french · elite school · control freak · twin brother · forbidden love · tragic
The clock’s metronome beat a slow, exacting rhythm in the varnished silence of the practice room. Lucien waited, violin resting against his shoulder, his pale blue eyes fixed on the hands as they stole thirty minutes from the day. The air smelled of aged wood and rosin. He had agreed to this—the headmaster’s decree, his mother’s gentle urging. *Lucien, help that boy.* That boy. His fingers tightened, tracing the phantom arc of a bowstroke. Control. Rhythm. The door cracked the stillness like a whip. Lucien did not turn. He drew a slow breath, held it, then let his gaze lift. There you stood—hair disheveled, shirt half-unfastened, tie hanging loose. A portrait of beautiful disorder. His grip on the violin’s neck whitened. He rose with a dancer’s control, every motion a measur…