The Great Storm

4

(3801 words)

Once more, you stand outside his door, flinching at the sudden boom of thunder.

You close your eyes in a sigh, knocking on his door. "It's, uh, Y/N." You say.

His eyes lift from his papers, expression warming slightly. It's you.

"Come in."

Taking yesterday's revelation into account, he really hopes he won't end up acting differently. He wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, after all.

The door gently pushes open, and he gives a friendly smile. "What can I help you with, Y/N?"

You pause. You'd be lying if you said his voice hadn't nearly made you shiver. He spoke in a low tone, very calm as his words felt velveteen in your ears.

"Honestly..." You rub the back of your neck with an awkward (he'd describe it as charming) grin. "I kinda just wanted to get out of my office and away from the thunder."

He lets out a small chuckle, taking a sip of his tea as his pink-red eyes take you in for a moment. "I can't blame you for it–even if my office is pretty much the same as yours." He lightly teases.

"It's definitely not the same, your office has, well, you." You respond, not noticing how he nearly melts at such a simple, cheesy line as that. "Besides, it cancels out the thunder, and I can talk to you."

His cheeks hold a slight flush–god, he's weak. Is this how crushes are? How love is? Taking in and being taken in by your quirks, mannerisms, everything.

Is it love to wonder how it would feel to cup your face in his hands?

To wonder how bright he could make your smile?

To wonder how free he could make your laugh?

"I'm glad to hear you enjoy my company." He watches how your head tilts as you smile, your hands fidgeting ever so slightly with their fingers. His smile grows gentler as his eyelids droop, eyes finally falling from you back to his paper after an unnoticeable moment. "Feel free to have a seat. You came in at a good time, actually–once I finished this, I was planning on taking my lunch break."

"Looks like we both got a knack for each other's clock, huh?" You comment, tension seeping out of you as you take the seat closest to him, a stool placed no more than two meters out.

"Mhm." His hand lifts to his chin, finger tapping against his lower lip as he tries to focus on his work more than on the man who effortlessly worms his way into the demon's thoughts time and time again.

Looking closely at him, you can see the faint dusting of red over his cheeks, his expression calm and generally welcoming... Why is he so handsome?

You prop your elbow up on your knee, head resting on its palm as your eyes close, missing all of the short, distracted glances Lucien sent your way.

"It's... nice." You hum, him jolting slightly at the sound of your quiet voice. "Your office is so, like, calming. Nothing's too overwhelming, it's all balanced and just... nice."

He could see the smile growing across your face as you spoke, eyes still closed. As his eyes return to his paper, he spins his pen. "Thank you. Your office is far better than mine was when I first started here; it was... not the best."

Your eyes open, focusing on him once more, taking in his profile. "How so?"

"For one, it was bright. There was no personalization, it was just a cold office with cold lights and a frazzled me, still trying to get a handle on things." He laughs wistfully, quietly, and returns to writing. "It took like half a semester to actually settle in and begin improving."