( A;N: Sorry y'all I got too caught up in some stuff and like i said before in my first work my sister's wedding is in January so I'm abit tied with work at home so uploading will be slower but rest assured I havnt dropped any of my works, I'm simply busy abit hope y'all like this chapter and if y'all have any suggestions for a romantic event or date idea do tell I'm good but I haven't exactly written romance stories before so I could use some 💡 ideas)
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Lucian and Diana soared silently through the cool, salty air above the vast, shimmering ocean. The only sound was the soft rush of wind around them, but surprisingly, the silence between them felt comfortable—far from awkward. Lucian glanced sideways at Diana, catching the faintest, tender smile lingering on her lips. She met his gaze, her eyes brightening, and her smile deepened just a fraction, as if sharing a secret only they understood.
After a moment, Diana broke the quiet with a teasing tilt to her voice. "So, where exactly are we headed, Mr. Charming?"
A slow smirk curved Lucian's lips. "Well, since this date was a sudden decision, reservations are probably impossible to get now. And wandering the city streets scavenging for street food? Not exactly the most dignified option for two people flying over the ocean." He gave her a playful glance. "How about we go to my place? I can whip up some mean microwaved pizza."
Diana raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, one side quirking in amused disbelief. "I may not be a typical city girl, but even I know that going to a man's place on a first date is... well, isn't it a bit fast? A little too forward?" Her voice carried a mixture of mock disapproval and genuine curiosity, her gaze searching his for any hint of hidden intentions.
Lucian scoffed softly, an amused sparkle in his eye. "Oh, please. If I tried anything funny, we both know you could snap my bones like twigs." He narrowed his eyes playfully, "It's really just about eating. And believe me, there will be more moments after that. But for now, instead of stressing over what comes next, I prefer going with the flow. Besides, I do enjoy being able to eat solid food."
Diana's grin widened, warm and teasing, the kind that made Lucian's heart skip a beat. Her gaze held a playful challenge, as if daring him to take her seriously. It dawned on Lucian that she was teasing him, not truly offended at all.
"Worry not, Lucian," she said with a gentle laugh. "I appreciate your straightforwardness. Your world's endless hidden meanings and double entendres have always left me feeling exasperated." She winked, her voice softening with sincerity. "I like this—honesty and simplicity."
Lucian's smirk deepened into a genuine smile. Without a word, he extended his left hand toward her—an unspoken invitation to take it. Slowly, deliberately, Diana reached out and clasped his fingers with a surprising firmness.
But suddenly, she tugged—a little too hard—causing Lucian to stumble back slightly as she shot forward with a mischievous giggle. "Keep up, Mr. Snail!" she called out over her shoulder, darting ahead with a wide, playful grin.
Lucian hovered, wide-eyed for a moment before shaking his head with mock frustration. "You said it wrong! It's 'Keep up, slowpoke!'" he shouted after her, his voice full of warmth and laughter as he floated to catch up.
As they reached Lucian's apartment in the heart of the city late at night, Diana instinctively lifted her gaze toward the balcony—the only visible hint of the life within. The apartment struck her immediately as warm, inviting, and surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew.
Soft white and pale blue walls accented the space, and vibrant chrysanthemums bloomed in pots along the railing, their delicate petals catching the dim glow of the streetlamps below. A hammock gently swayed, cradled on the balcony, offering a quiet vantage point over the bustling streets and city lights that stretched endlessly beyond.
Diana's eyes softened as she drank in this cozy refuge from the chaos of the city. The intimate warmth of the space clashed gently with her memory of Lucian: stoic, withdrawn, someone who liked isolation rather than to comfort and light. Turning to him, she spoke quietly, her voice low with curiosity and a hint of surprise. "I thought you'd be living somewhere remote, far from... all this. Somewhere quieter, isolated, more like you."
At that moment, she realized Lucian was no longer standing beside her. A familiar voice, calm and steady, called from a room just down the hall, "I used to. I still have a place exactly like that, hidden away, just as you imagined." His words invited a pause, and then he added, "But this—this place feels more fitting for my work... for everything I need right now."
Lucian stepped into the hallway carrying a neat bundle of clothes in his hands. His eyes met hers briefly, faint amusement flickering beneath his usual seriousness. "Here. Wear this," he said, offering the garments toward her. "Your armor and leather boots? They don't exactly say 'date night,' or 'comfortable,' for that matter."
Diana raised her eyebrows, a smile tugging hesitantly at the corner of her lips. She accepted the clothes with a soft "Thank you," and watched as he moved ahead, gesturing toward a room down the hall. "There's a bathroom if you want to freshen up—shower, change. I'll take care of dinner."
Her gaze followed him, eyebrows knitting together in mild disbelief mixed with curiosity. "I thought we were having pizza," she said, voice rising in playful protest.
Lucian's smile deepened, a rare warmth shining through as he glanced over his shoulder without turning around. "We can have that too," he promised, "But I'm going to cook something for us first. Don't worry—it won't be burnt to a crisp." The teasing tone in his voice softened the promise like a quiet caress. "Rest assured, it'll be edible."
He gave her a small nod of encouragement, then disappeared down the corridor, leaving the lingering scent of faint cologne and something subtly domestic in the air. Diana looked down at the borrowed clothes in her hands, her heart fluttering unexpectedly with a mixture of intrigue and newfound tenderness.
She wondered whether she was being too bold, If this was too quick as she often observed others who were too shy to even speak about their partners or what they usually did.
She took a deep breath, the steady hum of the city outside filling the quiet space, and turned toward the bathroom—readying herself for more than just a change of clothes. In that moment, something shifted between them: an unspoken promise of closeness, of shared space and time, and the soft unfolding of something carefully guarded, yet undeniable.
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