"Where did you go?"
Lia's voice was soft, but her eyes were sharp.
They were seated at a small dining table, eating, with Lia sitting right next to him, their knees touching.
Lucian had no issues with the closeness.
Akasha had many.
[She's practically glued to you. Why even have two chairs? At this point, you might as well just sit her on your lap.]
Her irritated voice echoed loudly in his mind.
Lucian ignored her and took another bite, chewing slowly.
Lia was interrogating Lucian since he had come late.
"Just… to meet someone." Lucian honestly answered.
He could've lied, but he didn't feel like lying to her, so he told her the truth, just not entirely.
"Who?"
Lia wasn't convinced. She wanted more details on whom he went to meet.
No, it wasn't because she wasn't trusting him, but rather his decision to meet someone when he knew next to nobody for years wasn't too convincing.
"You don't know her."
His words were calm, yet they had a profound impact on Lia.
'Her'
That word repeated in her mind.
Her expression shifted, irritation creeping in for some reason.
"Is it a woman?"
Lucian tilted his head and glanced at her.
After a few seconds,
"Yes," Lucian answered, completely oblivious to why she was reacting this way.
She stared at him for a moment longer than necessary.
Then—
"Hm."
She looked back down at her food, forcing herself to focus. Trying—and failing—to ignore the tight feeling forming in her chest.
"Do you like her?" She blurted out unknowingly.
"What?" Lucian tilted his head slightly.
'Why is she asking that?'
Lia came to her senses, and her face flushed. She couldn't believe she just said it without thinking.
'Why did I say that?!'
Still… she looked at him and asked again, hoping for the answer she wanted.
"Yes… I guess?" He answered, but still didn't understand what was happening.
She froze.
"I–I see."
Her fingers tightened around the spoon.
'What is wrong with her?' Lucian thought.
And then—
It clicked.
'No… she's not thinking that, right?'
[She is, you dumb idiot.]
Lucian sighed internally, set his spoon down, and gently took her trembling hands in his.
"Lia, it isn't like that." He said softly. "She's over forty."
'I think.'
But Lia's tension didn't disappear. Instead, she looked up at him in shock.
"You like older women?"
[...Sigh.]
Lucian closed his eyes for a brief second.
'Why is her imagination so wild?'
He flicked her forehead lightly.
"Ow—!"
"What kind of image do you have about me. She is like a mother figure to me."
[More like that figure is your actual mother.]
"Oh."
Lia's cheeks puffed up again, still tinted pink—but the storm inside her eased a little.
She picked up her spoon with a small pout.
"…You should have said that earlier."
Lucian exhaled softly.
"I didn't think my sister would have those thoughts about me."
Her ears reddened.
"Hmph."
Lucian looked at her for a moment.
Then—
"Don't worry… I won't leave you."
She froze.
Her eyes trembled slightly.
"…How… how did you know?" she whispered.
He smiled faintly.
"Well, I know my sister too well."
His smile turned sly.
"Even though I didn't know she'd imagine something like that about me."
"You should've clarified sooner," she huffed.
Her voice turned softer,
"And… I won't let you leave me either. Even if you try."
Lucian leaned closer, his gaze deep, voice lowering.
"And I won't let you get away from me. Ever."
His hand rose and ruffled her hair—gently, warmly… yet carrying a strange, unexplainable possessiveness.
Lia trembled.
Just for a second.
But she didn't pull away.