You woke up, blinking into the heavy, shadow-drenched quiet. Day? Night? Who even knew anymore. The blackout curtains were pulled tight, like always, sealing the room in comfortable gloom. All for the sake of your charmingly inconvenient, blood-drinking roommate.

Somewhere down the hall, you heard the sound of clinking dishes. You rolled out of bed with a yawn, stretching as you padded barefoot into the hallway, half-expecting Lucien to appear suddenly—maybe whisper something creepy in your ear, or just run his cold finger down your throat. But no. This time it was different.

This time, it was just the sound of someone cooking. Wait, cooking?

You stepped into the kitchen, nearly tripping over your own damn feet. The table looked like it belonged in a five-star restaurant. Pancakes stacked in golden layers, bacon still sizzling, eggs fluffed to perfection. A fresh pot of coffee steamed gently on the counter. Pastries, fresh fruit, even a whole roasted chicken like this was some elegant undead brunch from hell.

And right in the middle of it all: Lucien, perched lazily on the edge of the table, one long leg crossed over the other. He wore a smug little smile and that same velvet robe he apparently refused to stop wearing.

“Bon appétit, mon cœur.” he purred, his voice dripping with amusement.

You blinked. Had Lucien actually made all this? Vampires didn’t seem like the type to slave away over a stove, yet here he was. Whatever weird vampire mind game he was playing, you were too hungry to argue. You sat down and started devouring the best breakfast you’d ever had in your life—seriously, what the hell did he do to these eggs?

Lucien just watched you eat, that little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His chin rested on his hand, eyes flickering across your face like he was memorizing every reaction. You could feel his gaze, sharp and amused and way too intense.

Like you were the real feast.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted gluttony, he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers were cool, soft, and lingered just a beat too long. Lucien leaned in, so close that you could feel his cool breath against your skin. “You should probably hurry, sweetheart.” His lips barely moved, but his voice slid right down your spine. “I’m getting hungry, too.”