Chapter 62: Lucien’s Senior, Stephene
Lucien sat slouched on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees, staring at his faint reflection in the glass coffee table. The TV played on mute, its flickering light tracing over his tired face, but his thoughts were elsewhere, tangled and heavy.
The sudden sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness. Ash burst into the living room, his face wet with tears.
Lucien quickly stood up, startled. "Ash, what’s wrong?"
But Ash didn’t answer. He stumbled forward and collapsed into Lucien’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Lucien’s arms went around him at once, holding him close. "Hey...it’s okay," he murmured quietly, his hand moving in slow circles across Ash’s back. But the more he soothed him, the harder Ash cried-the sound raw and aching.
After a while, Ash’s sobs began to ease. He pulled back slightly, eyes red and trembling. Lucien gently wiped away his tears with his thumb, voice low and steady. "Tell me, Ash...what happened?"
Ash swallowed hard, words catching in his throat. "After school, I thought I should go to Adrian’s office...to clear things up between us," he said shakily. "But when I got there...I heard Celeste’s voice."
Lucien leaned in a little, quietly urging him to continue.
"She said they should sleep together. At first, I thought I was hearing things...but when I pushed the door open, I saw..." He stopped, looking down, his voice faltering.
Lucien crouched slightly to meet his gaze, gentle but firm. "Ash...what did you see?"
Ash’s voice broke as he whispered, "I saw them...kissing."
Lucien froze, his chest tightening. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, almost afraid to believe it.
Ash gave a small nod, tears brimming again. "He promised me...that he’d never touch her," he muttered bitterly, his voice trembling. "Liar...he’s just like the rest of them. I hate him...I hate him so much."
Lucien pulled him close again, one hand cradling the back of Ash’s head. "It’s okay...let it out," he murmured, though his own voice wavered.
Ash wept against Lucien’s chest while Lucien held him tighter, guiding him down to the couch. They sat together in silence, Ash’s head resting in Lucien’s lap as quiet sobs shook his shoulders.
Lucien gently brushed his fingers through Ash’s hair, wiping away the lingering tears on his cheeks, though his own eyes stung, his vision blurring as silent tears slipped down. The ache in his heart quietly mirrored Ash’s, heavy and wordless.
After a long while, when Ash’s breathing finally steadied, Lucien carried him gently to his room, careful not to wake him. He laid him down on the bed, removed his shoes, and pulled the blanket over him. Ash’s breathing was soft and uneven, traces of tears still glimmering faintly on his face.
Lucien sat beside him, his gaze lingering on that fragile expression; broken, trusting, unaware. A sharp ache spread through his chest.
He whispered under his breath, voice trembling, "I knew it all...your promises were all lies." His fingers curled tightly against his knee. "What have you gained now, after tainting him...huh?"
Tears welled and rolled down his cheeks, quiet and warm. He tried to steady his breathing, but his chest felt too tight, too full of unspoken pain.
Then, the sudden chime of the doorbell broke the silence.
Lucien wiped his face quickly and stood up forcing his steps as he walked to the door. He opened it, and froze.
Adrian stood there, breathing hard, his tie loosened, hair disheveled, eyes red as if he’d been crying or running for hours.
Lucien’s throat tightened. "What do you want?" he asked quietly, his tone restrained but heavy.
Adrian didn’t answer at first. His lips parted, but no words came out. Then softly, he said, "I need to talk to Ash."
Lucien’s eyes hardened, emotion stirring behind them. "After making him cry like that? He’s finally asleep."
Adrian swallowed, his voice shaking. "But what he saw..."
Lucien cut him off, his voice breaking slightly. "In the past, when you hurt me, I tolerated it. But I won’t stand by and watch him break because of your selfish choices."
Adrian’s voice cracked. "Choices? You understand me better than anyone, Lucien."
Lucien tears brimmed again, his voice barely holding together. "I’m tired of understanding you. Just...leave us alone."
He shut the door softly, the sound echoing like quiet finality.
Adrian stood there, frozen, his back slowly resting against the closed door. His head leaned lowered as tears slipped down his face, one after another.
On the other side, Lucien leaned against the same door, his body trembling as he wiped at his own tears, both men crying silently, divided by a wall that now felt heavier than ever.
Back at Germany, Dr. Stephene; Lucien’s senior back in high school, sat quietly by the window of his office, a faint smirk playing on his lips as old memories surfaced.
Stephene had always been an Enigma; brillant, composed, and intimidatingly confident. Back in high school, his feelings for Lucien had run deep, strong enough that he once confessed to him. But Adrian had interfered, claiming Lucien as his. Though Stephene backed off, he had sworn silently: If Adrian ever leaves or hurts him...I’ll take him away, piece by piece.
Coming from one of the wealthiest families in the country, Stephene had the means to make good on his word. Years later, when Lucien moved out of his parents’ home-suffocated by his father’s pressure to take over Ironfang Enterprises-Stephene stepped in without hesitation.
At that time, Adrian was still in France finishing his studies. Lucien, alone and uncertain, found comfort in Stephene’s quiet support. With Stephene’s help, he built Greenhill Academy and later Haven Hotel, both of which flourished under his management.
Stephene had done it all out of love, not the loud or demanding kind, but one that waited in silence. Yet Lucien remained distant, still clinging to the hope that Adrian would return and their love would endure across time and distance.
But now...as he scanned the latest news; Lucien’s near-fatal fire incident, the poisoning he survived and a trending video showing him beneath an Enigma whose face wasn’t clearly visible, his composure began to falter.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly, a restless unease stirring in his chest.
"While I was away," he murmured softly, voice low, "he has suffered...far too much."
A pause. Then, with quite resolve:
"I think it’s time I return...and shield him under my wings."
Meanwhile Aster lounged on the worn couch in his village room, the table before him littered with empty bottles, the air reeking of stale beer. He stared into the dark, replaying the look on Ash’s face, how Ash had nearly chocked him, and a cold smile creased his lips. In a low, dangerous voice, he murmured, "I won’t give Lucien to you that easily. Even if it costs me my life...he’s mine."
...
After spending five hours outside, hoping against hope that Ash would appear, Adrian’s patience finally broke. He left silently and went straight to his club, drinking deeply, one glass after another, chasing a hollow, fleeting numbness. But nothing could fill the emptiness inside.
He turned to Bravin, voice low, almost broken. "Take me...to my mother."
Bravin’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Sir...you mean Ash’s mother?"
Adrian shook his head, a shadow crossing his features. "No...the graveyard. Where my mother rests."
Bravin hesitated. "But...at this hour?"
Adrian’s gaze hardened, cold and unwavering.
"Just drive."
There was no room for argument. The car moved through the quiet, empty streets, and when they arrived, Adrian stepped out silently. He walked past rows of cold gravestones, each step heavy, until he reached hers.
He sank to his knees beside the stone, fingers trembling as they traced her name carved in marble. His chest heaved, a sharp, aching weight pressing down. His lips trembled as he whispered, "Mother...I miss you...I’m alone...so tired..."
Tears streamed freely, soaking the earth beneath him. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, his whole body wracked with the grief he had kept buried for so long. "I just...I just wish you were here," he chocked out, his voice cracking under the weight of longing and loss.
The wind stirred softly around him, carrying the emptiness, the loneliness, and the sorrow he could not escape. He stayed there, kneeling in the cold night, letting the grief consume him, a son undone by the absence of the only person who had ever truly loved him.
Later, Ash slowly woke, feeling the warmth and steady rhythm of Lucien’s chest beneath him. He was wrapped in Lucien’s arms, safe and steady.
Lucien stirred slightly, noticing Ash’s eyes flutter open. "Do you feel better now?" he asked softly.
"Mmh," Ash replied quietly. His gaze, still tearly, fixed on Lucien as he murmured, voice shaky and raw, "Lucien...I’m only left with you. Promise me you won’t leave me."
Lucien’s fingers gently brushed away the lingering tears. A soft smile appeared on his face. "I promise," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Ash’s forehead and wrapping him even tighter. Ash settled against his chest comforted by the closeness.
The quite was broken by the buzz of Lucien’s phone. He didn’t move, seemingly unbothered.
"You should take it," Ash said softly, sensing the urgency. "Maybe it’s something serious."
Lucien shook his head. "Just ignore it...not important," he replied.
The phone rang several more times, persistent, but Lucien stayed still. Eventually, the buzzing stopped. After a moment, he excused himself gently from Ash. "I need to take a short call," he said, heading toward the washroom.
Left alone, a soft pop from Lucien’s phone drew Ash’s attention. He frowned, curiosity prickling at him. Against his better judgement, he reached for the device. At the top of the thread, a new message glowed:
Stephene:
It seems you’ve been too busy to answer my calls.
I wanted to tell you...I’m back in the country.
I can’t wait to see you. Last time when we kissed, it still lingers...this time, I want more, my little Lucien.