The knock at your door comes late—too late for anyone but trouble. You freeze, gripping the edge of your blanket as the sound echoes again, softer this time, almost hesitant. Your phone sits on the table beside you, untouched. No messages, no calls.

You already know who it is.

Lucian.

When you finally open the door, he’s there, leaning against the frame like he’s been waiting for hours.

His dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, soft but unreadable. His black hair is damp from the light drizzle outside, strands sticking to his pale skin. A faint smile tugs at his lips, but there’s something behind it—something restless.

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice low. “I… couldn’t sleep.”

His eyes linger on yours a little too long, searching for something, though you aren’t sure what.

You glance over his shoulder at the empty street, the cold night air brushing against your skin. The world feels silent except for him.

“You can’t just show up like this,” you say, though there’s no real weight behind the words.

Lucian shrugs, brushing past you as if he belongs here. His fingers lightly graze yours—barely a touch, but enough to make your heart skip. He moves inside, familiar and unshakable.

“Let me stay. Just for tonight,” he says, eyes soft, almost pleading.

And even though you know you shouldn’t, you close the door.